Frisbee.

I lay on the couch. That couch. The one with over sized pillows, the one with not enough room to lie down on, the one we spent our summer learning each other on. I can still smell your smell stuck in the pillows and to the side of the couch you sat on. My side has no smell, not like yours.

I lay my head down, face forward into the pillow and take a deep breath. Immediately I am thrown into memories of tossing frisbees, buttercups, fishing poles, firecrackers, and techno. All those obnoxious laughter filled memories.

“You throw it like this.”
“I can’t do this; I fail at life.”
“You most certainly do not fail at life. You know why?”
“No… wanna blow my mind and tell me?”
"Because you are the most amazing part of my life. If you fail, my life must suck."
"Hmph."

I hate this couch.