I remember being awesome, which was all the time.
I remember living in Maryland with a park across the street, and the girl next door.
I remember leaving Baltimore and missing that girl next door.
I remember having a crush in middle school, and asking, “If you like me, check yes or no.” She said no.
I remember running in the rain to clear my head, and the bad thoughts of some girl I dated.
I remember trying to love and failing because it wasn’t love, just premature lust.
I remember the rejection but not the face. Just the voice.
I remember running in the rain again to clear the rejection, and it didn’t work.
I remember sleeping for two hours a night and thinking I had insomnia.
I remember the good moments, but I don’t embrace them.
I remember crying when I was alone in my room watching a sad movie.
I remember yesterday, and a little of today.
I remember waking up, showering, eating, getting dressed, and praying before leaving the house every morning for the last four years.