The Same Air

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There isn't a day where my mind doesn't think about him. It lingers with the memory of happiness and purity, that nothing could stop us because we were together. Embracing the moments in which were ours. My mind tries to make sense of him leaving me and forgetting me while I willow away into the good memories. I feel as though my mind is circuited through him, that I'm alive to breathe the same air as he is because he was special in every possible way. 
        Still is.
There isn't a day where my lips don't forget his touch. It reminds me every time I close my eyes, feeling his breath against my shaky skin. How could I forget? The way he held me and told me that he cared about me, that he wouldn't hurt me. Now, it's been more than a month since I've seen him and my skin cannot forget his touch. I embraced in his arms and forgot about the things that didn't matter because I was with him. Only he and I existed.
        Now, he isn't around anymore.
There isn't a day where my hands want to hold him. My hands recall how I held him, and how much tighter I wanted him against my body. That with him, I felt safe, and happy. I don't even remember that sort of happiness anymore. As my eyes begin to forget the structure of his face and the color of his skin. How can I want someone who doesn't want me anymore? And doesn't care about me like he said he did? 
        And I'm lost without him.
All I hope is for his eyes to never forget how he made me feel and that his touch remembers the way I lingered in his skin. 
        I hope I meant something to him even if it was for a little while.

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