I remember how she had different nails each week, and different hair every couple of months.
I remember how she had a bounce in her walk as she listened to music. She'd tilt her head downward and sway it to the music.
I remember how every time I got a text, I hoped it would be from her.
I remember the feeling I got in my stomach when I saw her down the hall, and how I wouldn't hesitate to walk to her and hold her waist as we walked to our first period.
I remember the way she would take a hold of my biceps when she got scared.
I remember the way she would rest her head on my chest when I hugged her, because I was taller.
I remember the smell of her house.
I remember how she laughed when I tried for about 20 minutes to accomplish a task in the Donkey Kong 64 game, only to discover that someone had already completed it.
I remember how she had blue eye shadow for one eye, and green for the other when I took her on our first date.
I remember how she told me she loved me.
I remember how she called me her "Eroe" which is "hero" in Italian. Because she said that I was her hero.
I remember how her neck tasted.
I remember the way her body felt next to mine when I would sneak over and sleep next to her.
I remember how much I would dread it when I had to leave, climbing out of her basement window into her front yard.
I remember the way that when she cried when she was texting me, I could tell because there would be a lot of repeated letters and other typos.
I remember how I was the one that broke both of our hearts on a cloudy afternoon in my car behind the school.
I remember being sick of the jealousy. I remember being done with the fighting. I remember feeling so overwhelmed with my own emotion that I thought I was going to implode.
I remember hating myself and loving her.
I still love her. Not in a mushy, romantic, let's-get-back-together sort of way. But in the way where if she called and needed me for something, anything, I'd be there in a heartbeat.
-The Wolf Boy
