Just a memory?

I slipped inside the blanket, and cuddled into his arms. He was in deep sleep already, but his warmth felt comfortable against my cold skin. It was a December night, and I had already spent half of it in the balcony with burning cigarettes and coffee, and a sweatshirt barely covering my skin. I looked at him, sleeping peacefully, the moonlight illuminating his face. I sat close to him and traced his face with my cold fingers. He shivered. My fingers traced  along his jawline and ended just at his neck. I could feel my thoughts wandering off somewhere I didn't know of, somewhere different. I knew I have changed, that maybe suddenly I had stopped loving him like I used to - or maybe showing it. I called him less now, and looked away when he stared right into my eyes. Strange, I know. I know everything.

I closed my eyes, and snuggled up near close to his chest - the warmth felt calming, quite calming. For a moment, I swear for a moment, I felt like it was you. You, the person whom I had almost forgotten. You, the person who was almost my first love and also my first heartbreak. You, the same person whom I almost miss on cold nights like this still. You, who is almost just a memory - I repeat, almost. You, whom I almost got over. You, who almost fell in love with me - just to keep me from love forever.

I opened my eyes, and everything looked hazy. I looked up to his face again, and his eyes stared back at me - and this time I did not look away. He held me tight against him, and ran his fingers through my hair.

He knows about you, but maybe not that I still think of you, sometimes. He knows you're just my past, but maybe not that the same past still haunts me.