Do You Remember?
Do you remember when we met? I dont think I ever told you my side of that story.
I needed time out of the house, away from my father and his friends. I did what I always had, chose a random stranger standing at a street corner, put on a charming smile, and lied about who I was.
I told you my name, Jackson. Average name, wouldn't tell you anything real about me. I told you I thought you were attractive, flirted shamelessly. It wouldn't tell you anything real about me.
But you read me like an open book. Somehow you even knew that the accent I was using wasn't my own. You somehow knew the sign of domestic abuse, and outed me right there on the street. Then you got into a taxi and rode off.
That was the strangest experience I'd ever had with another human being. And it made me want to find you again. I wondered if you would tell someone about my home life, but I didn't tell you enough about me for you to actually do anything about it.
Do you remember the next time we met? That same street corner, you were waiting for me. Hoping I would show up again. You stood exactly where I was hoping to find you. I showed up in gray sweatpants and a big hoodie, trying to hide away for a few hours from my father who was driving around looking for me.
I had a dark bruise on my jaw, my father didn't like that I'd snuck out the previous day to see you. We walked down the street to a small cafe, and you got ice and pressed it to my face. It was so strange to me, we didn't know one another, and you were concerned about me. You were kind. I wasn't used to that, not in a very long time.
Do you remember our first real date? The movie was terrible, we were harrassed by an elderly couple, and I was nearly assaulted by a guy I used to know. I kissed you, and we walked back to your house after the movie. It was the best date I've ever been on.
I stayed the night at your house, you didn't want me to go home. I think I stayed out for 3 or 4 days before your dad found me and dragged me back home himself. Well, back to my house. I think my first real home is you. No, I know it is.
Do you remember that job I helped you with? You were a part-time detective, and the case you were on was a drug ring. The man and woman who ran it had a little girl. We saved her from an abusive home, we sheltered her while the local police station found her someplace else. I loved her. But then she had to leave. A few months later, she came back. She wanted us, just as much as we wanted her. That was one of the happiest days of my life.
Do you remember the day we got engaged? It was just like any other day. Your dad had just invited me to go with you and your family for Christmas family vacation. Considering he used to hate me, I was pretty happy about the next day's trip. We were in bed, both tired. It was a terrible proposal, and I kind of hate myself for making it so mundane. I asked whose name would sound better with the others last name. You said I should take yours. I asked if I could. That was another of the happiest days of my life.
I guess, my point is... do you remember how happy you make me?
So please, if you can hear me... please wake up. I miss you. I need you.