I remember falling asleep on the phone together,
I remember sneaking out the house like we didn't know no better.
I remember passing notes, she was always good at folding letters.
Remember acting adolescent, feeling grown as ever.
That's what I learned how to love and how to lie,
and I remember believing both of 'em at the same time.
Remember sick days, away messages and mix tapes,
going to the mall for the third, fourth and fifth dates.
I remember trust, I remember losing it,
remember getting it back and not knowing what to do with it.
And I remember all the work. And I remember remembering when it still hurt.
I remember thinking this is awfully bitter sweet,
considering these memories make up more than a bit of me.
And I remember every moment,
but I can't remember the last time we've spoken.

I remember young love meant feeling everything but hesitant,
remember saying forever before I knew what forever meant.
As it turns out, it's longer than I thought it was,
I remember getting lost, caught up in the thought of us.
Even though we were only fifteen, I needed to believe in a reason when this world didn't make sense.
Summers on the beach, i haven't been to that lake since.
Remember learning who were the true and who were the fake friends.
And I remember every single break up, but I won't list 'em all for the sake of time.
I remember being blind to the finer points of romance,
but I survived for years on the off chance of a slow dance.
I remember feeling brief elation, then thinking the world was over on a weekly basis,
I remember every single moment,
but I still can't remember the last time we've spoken.

And I don't miss it, this is just where I wanna be,
but past is prelude to this notebook in front of me.
And it's kinda funny, we depend on somebody,
so completely and totally that it's overly nutty.
Then one day they leave you, or maybe it's you that chooses it,
Who is it? Doesn't matter, that door closes you're losing it.
Maybe they try to call, all it does is confuses sh*t.
The truth of it, you both know it's over.
And just like that, the only goal becomes forgetting,
because to remember would threaten everything.
So you burn it all, mixtapes, pictures,
deleting emails even those as short as five or six words.
Before you know it you're rid of it, but somewhere in the middle it
went from bitter to a little bit bitter sweet.
Considering these memories make up a bit of me,
it'll be a pity if I every forget.