Edwardo, Our Lost Fish

I remember the question "How many days does it take a full-moon to get to a new-moon?" and answering "28" when in reality it was 14. I remember playing "Murderer in the Dark" when I suddenly appeared in front of you when the light came on.
I remember the fire that wouldn't start in your backyard. I remember smelling like smoke and remember my stinging eyes.
I remember mini-golfing at Trafalga and failing to impress you with my questionable climbing abilities.
I remember Edwardo.
I remember trying to choose a matching tux to go with your undecided dress. I remember eating strawberries.
I remember fishing with our hands in a freezing stream. I remember catching and losing Edwardo in the little side-pool we made for our catches.
I remember your porch step where we talked for hours, running my fingers through your hair while holding you close.
I remember flying shrimp. I remember the onion volcano.
I remember our walks through the park, that time when we jumped out of the car and pretended we had guns, rolling around with our spy-moves and seeing the bewildered faces of the confused teenagers sitting on the swings. I remember long nights, laying in my bed, texting you for hours on end only to end up with a pillow soaked in tears.
I remember the three way teeter-totter, sliding you closer and closer 'til you were an inch from my face. I remember the best day of my life. I remember your fear of the transients that live under the bridge.
I remember the reclining armrest at Cinemark and holding you close during "The House Down the Street".
I remember watching house while you did homework with your head on my shoulder. I remember feeling good, feeling happy, an emotion I seem to forget when your not around.