As the sleet pings against my window pane, I think of you.
I think of what I meant to you then and what I mean to you now.
The sleet melts as it hits my window, turning into cascading waterfalls.
I watch the water droplets create streams and endlessly crash into and away from each other.
Is that what we did?
Were we just two intersecting lines, growing ever closer, but then growing ever further?
The sound of the running water and harsh sleet come together to form a symphony that lulls me into a state of serenity.
Although I am calm and tranquil, thoughts of you are still buzzing in my mind.
When did you become a bee, zooming circles around my consciousness like I am some sweet summer nectar?
I want to go downstairs and make tea, but I am cocooned in this cool warmth.
I reach for a book instead.
I flip through the pages and find my bookmark. I stumble across a quote that reminds me of you.
I begin to wonder if little things remind you of me the way afternoon coffee reminds me of the way you smile.
I put the book down and slip back into the state of tranquility once again.
Every little thing reminds me of you, but nothingness reminds me of you too.