breaking up is funny, if you think about it.
i know: your shoe size, the things that make you tick, your favorite niece, your scent, how your lips taste, your favorite t-shirt, what you want to name your future daughter, your favorite lip color on me, your best childhood memory, your dreams, your aspirations, your favorite movie, how your palms sweat when we hold hands, where we had both of our first kiss, the things that turn you on, how your tummy looks, your parents, how safe your arms made me feel, your thoughts on romance, how you diffuse an argument, what your eyebrows do when youâre upset, your favorite album, how you study for a test, how your voice sounds like after waking up, your favorite high school teacher, your morals, how you like your nasi padang, the way your legs wonât stop moving when youâre nervous, how your hair feels against my fingers, the way you listen to music, your favorite bus driver, your childhood, your past, your plans.
and iâm supposed to forget them all the moment you told me that you canât do this anymore.












