I wish

I wish I didn't remember what it felt like,
The way you touched me.
How at first it felt almost electric, because it was so new.
God, everything then was so new.
I felt so grown up, you were 16.
I thought I was so mature, when really I was just naive.
But not nearly as naive, as you are broken.
Broken enough to make me responsible for two lives,
Yours, and mine.
Broken enough to stop asking when you hear "no" the first 6 weeks.
"How can I make you feel better?"
I asked every day, and every day it was the same answer.
Show me this, let me do that, I promise you'll like it.
"I know how you feel, you're broken too. It'll help both of us, you'll see after one time, I promise."
I used to have this thing called self respect, and I respected myself enough to know this wasn't what I wanted.