I was meant for you.

I can't remember our last kiss, I can remember it was a Saturday, it had to be, but I don't remember it. I remember every inch of him, as if he were an extended part of me. I remember him trying to explain what an N-64 was, a concept which I still find vague, I remember how he used to hold me, how I used to wait until he let go before I hugged back. I suppose that was me proving I wasn't vulnerable, the biggest lie I tell myself daily. He is my vulnerability, you want to see me cry? Bring up his name. You want to see me completely fall apart? Mention hers.