The weather turned a little corner and so did the light. The golden light of autumn is almost enough to convince me that all is right with the world. It gives me a little hope.
When we met, I never dreamed what you would mean to me. Knowing you is like knowing another part of me. You weren’t very nice to me the day we met, though. I forgave you. I am so glad I did.
I couldn’t help myself.
I’ve been hopelessly wrapped around your finger ever since. Even though I have to assume I’ll never see you again.
When the light hits just right or I’m feeling a little melancholy, I scribble these words wherever I can – receipts, slips of paper, notebooks, and things that remind me of you.
They live in a trunk in my office. They sit in piles on my desk and when the clutter is too much, I pack up all of the words that I would say to your face if I could and put them in the trunk – buried under the shawl my Grandma Amelia gave me and next to the horses I used to play with when I was a kid.
I miss you now. I will miss you always.