of raindrops and sunshine

I remember the rain.

I remember words hurling through the air like daggers and I remember the hole he punched in the wall.

I remember the police sirens disrupting the night and the unopened bottle of Gatorade I found on the counter the next day.

I remember you walking me to my car and walking away awkwardly because you weren't sure whether to hug me or not, so you didn't. I remember you never hugged me again.

I remember wishing you would've.

I remember when they sat me down and delivered the news, tears streaming down their faces. I remember that at six years old, I didn't quite comprehend what it meant when they said she was in a better place.

I remember the tears that only come once I saw the cold marble headstone.

I remember the sun.

I remember dancing in your bedroom at two in the morning to some vapid pop song and wishing that moment would last forever.

I remember mint ice cream cones on the corner of Dewey Street with my second grade crush.

I remember the stranger that called me beautiful at dinner that night.

I remember watching High School Musical for the first time and how I cried at the ending.

I remember shaking hands and butterflies when I leaned in for that first kiss. (It was truth or dare, but still. #manbun)

I remember laying on the golf course looking at the stars for hours.

I remember that night on my couch when I cried into your shoulder, and I remember feeling so damn lucky to have someone like you in my life. 

I remember every kind word and every soft smile and every little compliment and every warm embrace and every peal of laughter 

and I remember falling in love with the human race 

over and over again

I remember the rain.

And oh, how I remember the sun.