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I want to remember… you. I miss you.

I want to remember… you. I miss you.


Be prepared to be hit with a block of cheese in your face with this post.

The beach.

I want to remember, how sand feels between my fingers.

I want to engrave in my memory the pattern of waves.

I want to be able to smell the salt in the air in 50 years time.

I want to be able to recall the calming swish of the ocean late at night when I have nothing but troubles clouding my mind.

I want to remember, the blue of the ocean in the dark months of winter.

I wish to feel the gentle breeze of wind during times when loneliness sneaks up on me.

The UK in spring.

I want to remember the gentle caress of the wind.

I want to remember the smell of fresh cut grass.

I want to be able to close my eyes and recall the blossoming of cherry trees. I want to paint my winter months in that exact shade of pink.

I want to able to trace the patterns of raindrops hitting the window onto your skin when we cuddle late at night.

I want to savour forever the sunshine warming up my pasty skin and store it in my memory for when I’m shivering at a bus stop in winter.

I want to learn the rhythm of the wind to which dandelions swish to in fields.

I want to learn to play the symphony of spring when all I have is disturbing and distinctive quietness around me.

Sunday mornings.

I want to memorize the dance of dust in the rays sunlight sweeping through my window.

I want to remember the inviting warmth of my bed sheets.

I want to close my eyes and clearly recall the soft humming drifting through the house of my flatmate cooking breakfast downstairs.

I want to remember the light pressure of water hitting my skin when taking that leisurely Sunday morning shower.


I want to remember how your eyebrows pull together when you’re confused.

I want to never forget how your nose crinkles when you eat something sour or how your eyes light up when you speak of pizza (relatable tho).

I want to forever feel the tattoo of your heartbeat against my back when you hold me, I want to able to feel it when you’re not around.

I want to remember how your pianist fingers curl around the coffee mug in the morning savouring the warmth and how your tongue darts out to lick the foamy milk of your upper lip.

When you are not next to me, I want to remember how to trace the dip of your collarbones or how warm the bedsheets feel when you’ve been sleeping next to me.

I want to remember your unique scent – peppermint and sandalwood – when I’m lost or stressed, your scent always seems to calm me.

I want to be able to see the mossy green of your eyes in the darkness.

I want to engrave in my memory, how you brush my hair with your fingers and how hot your breath is against my ear when you chuckle because your fingers always get stuck in my tangled curls.

I want to be on my death bed and still be able to hear you whispering your secrets away in your sleep – you whispered you loved me in your sleep.

I want to remember the feel of the skin on your hands – rough from working with your hands, but mostly I want to be able to feel how your hands are always so warm in contrast to my ice cold ones.

I never want to forget you.

Edited November 23rd, 2018.

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