My first kiss was in June

We were so young.

The sky was clear, but the stars were everywhere. I mean everywhere. And we were so young.

We were only across the street at the softball fields, but we were closer to the moon. We were closer to 17 than we were to being in love. She was my first kiss, and I don't think I was hers. We were so young and we didn't even know it. 

I want to thank her for not ruining it.

I  haven't thought about her in a few years. I've seen her on Facebook, but I didn't look her in the eyes. I'm trying to remember if I loved her.

Here's what I came up with:

I sort of liked her,
I sort of loved her,
I sort of loved her sister.

I didn't keep in touch,
I didn't grow to regret it,
I still remember the smell,
I still remember,
I still remember,
If you're reading this, dear, I'm sorry. But,
I still remember.

We were so young.
We kissed again about a year later,
but it wasn't the same.

I could've sworn there were fireworks,
but it was only June.

If you're reading this, dear, I'm sorry. We've been married far too long for you to get jealous.

She wrote on my arms but it never seeped into my heart, I promise. This is just a blog post. 

We were so young,

it was only June.