Let's pretend, that I am a girl, and you are a boy. That you love me, and I love you. And the only thing that separates our love is distance. 385.2 miles of distance if we're being exact, from my town to yours. And let's pretend that even though our love is strong and binding, that distance becomes our downfall. And I want you to pretend one last time: pretend that was the end of us, that we have each now gone our own ways, and the lives we lived of being in love was so long ago, it seems almost like another life.
You can pretend, but I can't.
Because I know it to be a fact that I am a girl, and you are a boy. That you loved me, and I loved you. And distance stood between us, and it was our downfall. And now my messages are sent to you, and they remain unanswered, or if they are, with little emotion or attention.
The girl you once loved remembers it all. She still has all the emails you sent, saved in their own special folder. She has your words bookmarked on her computer so that she may go back to those times and remind herself it was all real. And she has the picture you drew for her pinned to her desk so that every time she glances up when times get rough, there is something to make her smile and carry on.
For I will remember you, the boy, for as long as I live. And I will remember you for all that I loved you to be.
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