Cheyenne

I measured our time together in numbers of how many times your lips curved in a smile, how many pictures I took where you were caught off guard, how many times uncontrollable shouts of laughter had you covering your mouth and squeezing your eyes shut tight. I counted the minutes until you left in times when your eyes met mine in a noisy room and you waved “Hi”, when you sat quietly with different worlds in your eyes, when you made faces behind people's’ backs, then laughed when you knew I was watching. I picked out every single note you passed me, drawings you covered up, and judgments made behind your hand. I noticed how when you get fed up, you slam your pencil down and throw your head in your hands, your eyes light up when something that can get us in trouble is mentioned, you laugh at your own jokes, even if it’s only you. I had gotten used to you making bets in gym class, waiting for you after every class, you making plans to hang out with everyone, even though you rarely did. How am I going to live without you here?