29. Even when i'm with you, i'm missing you. We cuddle facing each other. Cuddled. Holding hands. That first night after I slept over, we slept with our hands entwined, facing each other. I told you I don't do that - I sleep on the edge turned away, huddled in a ball of just sarah. But not with you - at least, not at first.
Usually after a breakup, I focus on every single thing I don't like about the person i dated: why we didn't work, their stupid mannerisms... but today, I went surfing and I thought about that kiss a few dates in, when we walked along the beach right before softball got cancelled, and we kissed in the rain. The drops of water hardened spots on the sand as we ran to the strand looking for cover. I felt self-conscious holding your hand in public, not yet normalized with this side of my sexuality.
As I'm preparing my italian exit, I think of all the stuff in LA I'll miss. I try to fit time for museums and hikes and friends, but you come to mind. I think about what I'm doing this wednesday morning. our usual sunrise hike comes to mind, only i won't be worriedly laughing as you slide down the mountain. I refrain from telling you to buy a pair of hiking shoes.
The days leading up to the breakup were great, some of the best we had. Fourth of July was a dream. Hiking, getting lost, finding ground, eating bagels, making burgers, making out, holding each other under thousands of explosions. You were so good to me. I wish I could have returned the favor.
jul 16, 11:32 //