Memories

(a part of a look at the past)

The other night, I talked with you; reminding you of times in the past. Laying in your dark room, music playing softly in the background along with the fan outside your closed door. The only light came from the clock on your wall. My curfew was 11:30, but sometimes I’d stay a little later, laying in your arms. I remember the smell of your cologne–Drakkar. I love and miss the smell; you don’t wear it anymore. I especially remember the nights you professed your love for me; hours would pass, and you would continue to tell me just how much you cared as you held my hand.

I reminded you of these moments in our lives. Sometimes now, we sleep with the fan on in the background, reliving those nights of being home at 11:30. They replay countless times in my head, and sometimes, I can still smell your cologne.

Today, I no longer have to be home at 11:30 because our home is together; in less than fifty days, we’ll be husband and wife. It all seems so surreal.