more.
kissing you at the seaport, with only the light from the brooklyn bridge illuminating your face. standing there, you standing behind me, hands wrapped around my waist, the breeze from the distance, watching the lights shine over the city.
singing country music in your car, your big bulky maroon truck, blasting zac brown band and taylor swift and kenny chesney and singing and laughing. i got you to love country music to the point that you said taylor swift is your favorite artist, this from a boy who before he met me, only listened to rap.
going to her concert, navigating the new jersey transit and almost getting lost, buying a pregnant singing psycho lady a coke in the middle of newark penn station. singing my heart our to you at the show, your first concert ever. missing the train and sitting in the station for hours, me barefoot because my shoes hurt me so much. falling asleep on your lap.
the time we ventured into the city and i got sick and you had to hold me the whole way home while I thought I was going to throw up the whole way home.
two full sets of auditions for american idol, watching them on my couch.
going all the way to jersey last winter just to get sonic, driving through the city and almost killing everyone because you were so enraged. finally getting there, laughing, our receipt was 2 feet long and 43 dollars wide and three bags worth of shitty food.
every time you took me to wendys and mcdonalds because i didnt want to eat what my mom was making or we were out really late.
always always winning in beer pong with you. always. remember when i thought i could beat you though? we must have played a thousand rounds with just water in your bedroom that night, losing all the balls behind your bed and realizing how loud it actually was when your mom was trying to sleep. and then picking that up right the next day in the living room.
just a few weeks ago, pretending to be asleep on the couch where your dad sleeps and i couldn’t help but having a giggle fit.
all the times we babysat Adriana and how funny it was. you’re still her best friend, you’re still mine.
me forcing you to watch home movies with me.
“that was nice.”
“baby your feetsies are so cold! move your feetsies you’re taking up all the room!”
“you gotta brush your teefies”
the baby talk was really lame but we did it anyway.
driving all the way 13 hours in my car back to south carolina.
every time you tickled me. grabbed my knees. made me laugh…and then hurt you.
miss you baby.
