I think about you often
Honestly probably way more than I should. Thoughts of you creep into my mind and I can’t stop them. I think about how happy you once made me. How much I looked forward to seeing you. How much I enjoyed hearing about your world. I think about your eyes and how they used to look at me. How you looked at me when you cared.
I think about how much it annoyed you that I could read you, and how much it flustered you.
I miss those days.