about you

I want to tell you that you cross my mind approximately 3 times on any given day.

I think about how beautiful your mind is, and how I’ll never truly understand it, and that’s okay.

I think about your laugh. That damn adorable laugh.

I think about the wrinkles that form around your eyes whenever you smile, and I smile at the fact that behind them lies a lifetime of laughter.

I want to tell you that every time you told me a story, whenever you talked non-stop for a minute or two, part of me just watched how the light danced across your face, how passion gleamed in your eyes, the way your hands waltzed with your words.

And the rest of me just played it cool.

I try to remember the way your hands felt wrapped around mine, and I try not to forget the scent of your cologne.

I will probably never experience either of these things again, and that’s okay.

I think about how you helped teach me what it means to love myself, and how you don’t even realize it.

I think about your fears and self-doubt, and if only, I think, if only you could see yourself through my eyes.

I think about you quite a bit.

I wonder how your day is going, and I can’t help but wonder how much of it is spent thinking about me.

And I think that if the answer is none of it, that’s okay, too.

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