Getting into arguments over which kind of salt to buy,
The way my body fit your body so imperfectly,
The squishy mole on your back that I liked to squish,
The special language we had,
You holding all of the grocery bags so I didn't have to hold any even though I didn't mind,
Tracing over those two lines of your tattoo that never properly healed,
Assuming that we would be together forever,
Good times and bad times and in-between times,
Making out in Victoria Park on lunch breaks,
Me cooking dinner and you doing the dishes,
Knowing without saying,
Saying 'I love you' and most times meaning it but other times not really sure.
The way we can talk about all of this now with such clarity,
like it was a fictional story that we wrote,
or another life altogether.