I want to go back...

So I want to go back. I want to go back to that January night when the world was right. When we laughed all night wrong and life was great. To when everyone else had went to bed and we weren’t tired. When we talked for a few minutes then decided to continue the conversation in bed. Back to when we searched for a toothbrush for him. To when he left it in my bathroom like he would come back. I need that back. I need back when we were going into my room and he kissed. He really kissed me. I want that feeling back. I want the magic of not knowing the future and not caring because life was good. It was new and good, and I hadn’t screwed it up yet.

I want to stay in that night. That night when I laid on his chest and we talked all night about nothing at all, yet about everything. We talked about music, our pasts, and our futures. I want that back. We slept on an air mattress in a freezing room and stayed as close as two people could possibly get without having sex. I want that back. I didn’t care then. We were friends, but more? I want to know what it could have been if things would have been different. If I would have said more then? If I had been happy with myself then and not let things go. If I had had an opinion? Yeah, that would be great.

Too late now—that’s all just a memory.

“He's just an old memory
That don't remember me
And I can't get over him
Though it's been so long since he chose to leave
And I'm a grown woman
I should've already set myself free
From that old memory that don't remember me
He don't remember me”
-Ashton Shepherd, Old Memory