I was trying to describe you to someone . . .

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I was trying to describe you to someone, and I couldn’t quite form the words.

I couldn’t find the shade of blue that your eyes are, somewhere between cerulean and sapphire. And that your face is round, and when you don’t cut your hair for a while, the combination makes you look younger.

I told them how I remember the first time I saw you. You were wearing a light grey suit with a plain, white button up. As you leaned up against the side of the restaurant, you turned and smiled at me.

Do you remember watching your favorite TV show when you were younger? You knew it was going to end and that you would have to get off the sofa and go to bed, but you wanted each minute to last an hour. You wanted to sit there forever.

That’s how I felt with you the night we met.

I told them how I remember when you cooked me dinner for the first time. We sat on the floor and drank a bottle of wine in our pajamas. And I was trying to describe how you looked in a plain white t-shirt, but I couldn’t quite form the words.

They asked me my favorite memory with you, and I told them that after months that we had broken up, we connected again. I was trying to describe the way we talked about religion and purpose and power, and how it felt so natural. How we questioned each other. How we were honest about our pasts. How we opened up about secrets.

You were trying to describe your feelings to me. You told me that it feels different, but it’s not different. And that maybe we are better off as friends right now.

And I said ok.

I was trying to describe to someone why we kept coming back to each other, even though we knew our relationship was messy, and I couldn’t quite form the words.

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