our best night, my favorite memory.

Couples are everywhere.

Most times I just look away when I see them walking, 

but with family, you’re sort of stuck…. you have to see people interact.

It’s not that it bothers me the way it used to, but, if one member of the couple does something like what he used to do….

Or what I used to do with him… 

I lose consciousness and slip into the movie memory.

So often now I doubt the truth behind our relationship.

The shadows of doubt covering up that you were my sun.

You had a way with words, and I so easily slipped under your spell.

But actions…. actions are the only thing I have left to believe in….

And yesterday, I got a memory pulled from long ago…. one I haven’t seen in months.

My favorite memory of you and me, so simple I often forget it.

Not words, the look in your eye, or one of your hopeless promises.

It was the simplest of gestures.

That night in the cheap hotel.

Moon seeping through the curtains onto the bed we shared.

I was lying next to you…. and for some reason I rolled away from the boy I adored.

To the cool refreshment of the empty half.

Moments later… you slid toward me.

Chilled skin ignited by the warmth you seem to always carry.

Your arm curled easily around my ribcage… a perfect fit.

Your hot breath falling onto my ear… our bodies entangled into one.

Words can lie.

Actions hold truth.

And this modest gesture holds so much meaning to me.

And a hope, left as question.
 

Were we as real for you as we felt to me?