March 17, 2017
On a day like this, at an hour like this, in a place like this, I can’t help but think about who is not with me, for some odd reason.
I’d always hoped that I’d run into you serendipitously, miraculously, and it’d be just like I haven’t seen you for years. We could chat for hours and despite that, on the drive home, we’d still call and continue the stories and anecdotes. I’d love hearing your voice and you’d love hearing mine, but neither of us would have the courage enough to tell each other.
They say give it some time–a week or so–and if I still feel the same way afterward, then that’s when I know it’s something special. But I’ve been thinking much too much lately and I think it’s going to take a little more than a week to quit you…if it’s even possible.