of your eyes, begonia skies

sometimes i lay in bed at night and i wonder and wonder and wonder about what the future would hold for the both of us, whether we'll meet again when we're 21 and laugh about a stupid promise we made when we were 18 and by then i don't know where you'll be anymore we would have lost contact for too long to even have the slightest idea of what goes on in each other's lives or we would've become so vastly different from one another that we never quite understood how it began in the first place.  or maybe we'd both remember this day, this time, this night two years ago but none of us would bother to swallow our pride for a promise made out of naivety and haste and we'll let it slip out of our minds and move on with our lives...like the way we are now.  or maybe this day will slip by like any other day slips by like how two years since we've met has slipped by and we'll just disappear further and further into each other's pasts with no last thoughts, no last words

i don't know, but if we never meet again please know that unless something terribly grand happens like a technological meltdown or if i happen to suffer from permanent memory loss of any sort — just know that i'll probably think of you that day, i'll probably remember who you once were and what you once meant to me, and i'll probably smile in memory of that feeling you gave me that one summer night