I'll tell you in the morning

An unlikely Halloween pairing:
You: a priest. Me: Mia Wallace post-overdose
because I was a Cool Girl.
I almost went home with your crucifix,
instead, you took my number.
Small sentences on blue screens slowly became paragraphs
You ran out of credit and borrowed Joe’s phone
to send me questions about my childhood,
with anecdotes about yours — 2013 romance.
Months of 
“Will they?”
“…Won’t they?” 
with hands held under tables.
The night I wore your shirt
and you went home without it.
An accident, but an excuse to see you again all the same.
The first film we watched together
was Wes Anderson’s Moonrise Kingdom.
The first time I ate potato salad was with you.
Small firsts,
and then bigger ones — just for us.
Summer evenings spent walking and talking endlessly,
then sharing silences we curled up into.
Into each other.
Our first date was a year too late,
you know what I mean.
Then I took a leap — though it wasn’t a leap year —
and asked you to be my boyfriend.
I still get a kick out of calling you that now.
I used to go on your Facebook profile and read out:
"In a relationship with Sophie Howarth", 
and you’d laugh.
Spending money on cinema tickets
but spending the entire time on each other —
man, we’d hate those versions of ourselves now.
Re-watching Charmed on my phone because of my broken laptop —
pausing it every two minutes to text you back.
Can you believe it? 
Not caring about leaving space in between
or seeming too keen,
sometimes missing the plot, but never you.
Bridging one hundred and forty-four-miles of distance with £4 bus tickets 
to spend entire weekends in my bedroom,
living off croissants and yoghurt
and the chips we had at Whitley Bay,
the wine you bought on Valentine’s Day.
Writing this while you lie next to me in our bedroom in Montpellier,
telling me how we’re skateboarding.
"We are? Can you land a kickflip?"
I’m humouring you — we’ve never been skateboarding.
Maybe we will, but my terrible co-ordination says we won’t.
You’re asleep, but I’ll tell you all of this in the morning.