Whenever I see this photo, I remember you. I remember us. I recall the moments that we would spend in our hangout place. In that bench, where we first held hands. In that bench, where we would just sit and talk about deep or nonsensical stuff, anything under the sun, really. In that bench, where I told you my deepest darkest secret and you told me yours. In that bench, where we would eat our take out food and then take a nap on afterwards. In that bench, where we would spend rainy days napping while hugging or just cuddling.
In that bench, where we would do that exact thing as the picture on. Where we would just lay our bodies, trying to squeeze ourselves in that narrow bench. And then you would try to lay your head on my shoulder and I would do the same. Sometimes, you would even sleep on your side, the side where I am and I would hear your slow, peaceful breathing on my ear. That’s like saying, I am alive whenever I am with you. Or how you would try to make me fall asleep by caressing your hand either on my hair or on my face. In that bench, where I didn’t want to leave, where we didn’t want to leave.
In that same bench, where we used to talk about the future, our future. But now, all we have is a past that is filled with these wonderful memories to remember by. I miss those times with you. I miss you. I miss us.