One Time

One time 
He wrote me a poem based off of a Snapple cap that talked about how guinea pigs mate for life 
He said it was his favorite one 
He said we were like those guinea pigs

One time 
He accidentally asked me to marry him when we were cuddled up at my grandmothers house avoiding the rain
I accidentally said yes but it didn't really matter
I don't think he remembers that

One time 
We were walking through a mall and he told me every song on the radio reminded him of me 
Because I was like a flip book in the back of his mind
Always there, moving in stop motion and distracting him from the work he had to do 

I can't quite figure out how to forget these one times because they were all so good 
They taste like sour grapes now 
You still pop them in your mouth, they're still sweet, but overwhelmingly unpleasant now they have gone bad 
He gave me new one times that I don't like thinking about 
He took my rose colored glasses and snapped them in half, he shattered the lenses 

One time 
I ignored his text messages for six days because it hurt to tell him I love him 
I didn't think it would hurt so bad to stop saying it
He didn't even notice that I wasn't answering but I bet he notices now 

One time 
We walked through the city and it felt like a movie 
We ate old donuts and pushed each other on the swings and snuck into a restaurant bathroom 
I didn't know he had just rolled out of some other girls bed 
I hated her for about 20 minutes until I remembered she didn't do anything wrong, she didn't know she was shredding the only copy of our love story

One time 
I called him on the phone and asked if he was happy 
When he said no I thought a flower was growing in my throat right out of my mouth 
This is what I wanted, but why does it still feel so fucking wrong 
Why does it feel so ugly 

Im trying to glue my glasses back together and look at my life sideways 
If I lay on the ground with my head on the concrete at least the world doesn't feel so upside down 
But God, I've relived so many one times lately and all I want is to ask which ones are in his flipbook still
Or if he's thrown that out just like he did to me 

But one time 
We were laying on the couch in his dingy apartment with cigarette butts and dirty dishes on the table 
And the air conditioner was screaming at us to get up and do something,
Stop wasting the day 
But we just looked at each other 
We just sat, hands locked together
Sweaty palms, cracked fingernails 
And he said 

I'm going to remember this