Memory

This has nothing to do with my usual archaeology talk or relatedness. This is something more personal.

Memories that I want to remember but I'm afraid are already slipping from my mind.

We use to be with each other constantly. It took me long to gain your trust and really allow me to know you, but once we got past that point we were the best. I remember when I knew we were extremely close:
I had gotten an bubble tea and we took turns shooting the bubbles at trees and failing miserably. I begged you to let us stop and dip our feet in the creek. You said we could stop and rest but you wouldn't put your feet in. I begged for you to anyways, but finally gave up and stuck my own bare feet in the cool stream while sitting next to you on the limestone. We sat there talking of nothing. I noticed you take off your shoes and put your feet in the water, but I didn't say anything. I wore a smile though. And when you took a drink of my bubble tea without asking I knew that that was it. We were as close as I could get as a friend.

We stood in the cold at the bus stop. You had said something to upset me and I had turned away. I hadn't worn a warm jacket and was cold. You were always so oblivious to when I was upset. I asked if I could lean against you because I was cold. You agreed. I leaned my head against your chest and felt its warmth against my cheek. We stood in silence. I was crying. I have no idea what you were doing. All you said was "You smell nice." I sometimes wonder if you knew I cried that night.