I remember when we were six. We went every where together, we thought we were so grown up when we held hands. I remember how it felt to hold your hand when I was six. I always felt safe. We protected each other from bullies.
I remember when we were eight. It was when we hit the awkward stages. Our bodies changed and we drifted apart. I remember you chasing me around the playground and my screams: You have cooties! You have cooties! I remember the laugh from all the teachers.
I remember when we were ten. We didn’t talk much, but we were in the same class. This was the year I told you I thought you were kinda cute, you laughed and said ditto.
I remember when we were twelve. I got sick and you were by me every second again. I realized how beautiful your eyes were, an emerald green. This was the year you started dating Katie Jones. I remember crying but never understanding the reason why.
I remember when we were fourteen. I blushed when you smiled at me from across the cafeteria. This was the year Bobby Jackson asked me to be his girlfriend. I agreed, not knowing that a freshman shouldn’t date a sophmore. When Bobby broke my heart you gave him a black eye. I remember you holding me repeating two words: It’s Okay.
I remember when we were sixteen. You were so handsome. I finally admitted my feelings for you to my best friend and she smiled and laugh. She told me she’d know it since eight grade. I was too scared to tell you myself. It was this year that you dated Jenny Rodgers. I remember crying night and day over you. Then I remember you dumping Jenny, you wouldn’t tell anyone why but you would look over to me every time someone asked.
I remember when we were eighteen. We were seniors in high school, the big kids. We were closer than ever this year. This was the year you asked me to be your girlfriend and the year I made a fool of myself yelling yes in the hallway. It was the year everyone waited for, the hall was full of “I knew it was coming”-s. We had our first kiss and I remember the sparks flying and my heart soaring.
I remember prom night of that year. We were driving there in your beat up truck, laughing and singing along with the radio. You turned your head and looked at me. You’re smile disappeared and you whispered “You’re beautiful.” I smiled, blushing, and turned away. Then lights flashed and screams escaped from my mouth.
I remember that summer without you. I remember all the black I wore, the tears that stained my sheets. I remember sitting in the summer sun by your grave all those months. I would play our song on my iPod and eat our favorite snack. I talked to you like you were still there with me and in a way, you were.

In a way, you still are.