Thinking Of You

When I’m alone I think of you.

How you fit perfectly like a glove in my heart, in my life. Like you were placed here as a complement, rather a completion to the purpose, the missing piece for me to fulfill my journey.

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I think of you.

How our conversations are seamless, endless, friendly, boundless, loving, honest, beautiful.

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I think of you.

How time seems like forever and not long enough by your side. We get lost in time, in mind, in a train of thought, in a twisted heart, in a masterpiece.

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I think of you.

How I never knew how much I missed you here, a space you’ve never occupied. How I never knew your place in my life, in my heart, in my world, in my soul, in my purpose. Your place in my future. To others, we speak in tongues, but language is common here. Your understanding of my turbulent past through your own refurbished looking glass.

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I think of you.

How the pieces of me that I beautify to present to the world because the raw version requires too much background, too much explanation, too much qualification, too much justification are simply just beautiful to you. No filter needed so I show them freely, almost proudly because you see me.

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I think of you.

How your smile runs through my mind, causing a glimmer in my eye throughout the day. A piece of joy I find from memories of a conversation we had that day, or this day, or last May, or yesterday. One line or a whole train of thought, each word held dear, spoken from the heart with vulnerability and trust and humor and us laid bare before each other because here it’s safe.

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I think of you.

How, if given the chance, I’d love you from the moment we said hey in passing that first day, to our first kiss, to our last breath, to our life lived, to our legacy left.

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I think of you.