Some days, I catch glimpses of you in carefree laughs that come from others' joy at spending time with me and wonder if you'll really be so bold to sing out of the rolled-down windows.
Other nights, I scroll through pictures from July 2012 and remember the warm and selfless love that filled a tiny village and wonder if it was your dirt-caked sneakers that trekked those same paths with me.
And occasionally, I look around crowded rooms, peering into the shining minds of a select few and just bask in the thrilling possibility that you might be in there somewhere.
But mostly, I close my eyes because I have no idea where to look.
The places I really want to look are the forested mountains of Montana, the gently falling leaves of Boston, the sparkling oceans of San Francisco, and various sunlit libraries. Because somehow I can't get the idea from my head.. it's there that you're waiting, patiently leafing through poetry or shuffling through your playlists until I get there.
I'm coming as fast as I can, I promise.
I just wouldn't want to rush past you by accident.
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