You and I were just faces in the crowd. Aware of each other, but didn't care enough to look past that.
We heard things, we were told things. We just didn't care enough to concern ourselves with it.
Then it all happened.
By pure luck we met. It wasn't like Cinderella, or Snow White.
It wasn't love at first sight.
I don't think it was even love.
Love wasn't what I was looking for, you weren't looking for it either. You were looking for a fling. I was looking for a story of interest.
It made sense for us.
You needed someone and I needed to keep things interesting.
I'd wake up to text messages saying “Good morning beautiful” or “Wake up babe”.
I'd always have a small smile when I read them. Even though I knew you were just telling me what I want to hear. I did the same thing in return.
I told you I loved you, when in reality I don't think I did. I barely knew you. You did the same.
We knew enough to get by. We couldn't quote each other or tell people the others favourite color (although as I write I remember yours. Dark green or black and pink together). I doubt you know mine.
We didn't have nicknames we'd use for each other face to face. In fact, I don't think you ever learned the nickname I used for you.
Like I said you needed someone and I needed a story. At least we both hold up our ends of the bargain.
I got a few stories and you get a free pass for later.
That's all we wanted. It's all we got.
By the end of it, it hurt more than we both thought it would. It hurt me pretty badly but I think it was worse for you. It wasn't your fault and it wasn't mine. Well it sorta was on moth our parts.
Everyone who knew sees us happening again, including yourself. I would like to deny this but It's probably true.
I hate that I remember so damn much about all of it. First time I met you, first date, last date, first kiss, last kiss, what I wore, what you wore, things we said and countless times we kept each other up at night.
I don't want to remember it but I do.
I wouldn't say I would change want to any of it, just warn myself what I would be getting into.
That it'd be all by chance.