People I care about are thinking of me. Sometimes I don't notice the small ways in which they demonstrate this. A missed call or seven. A poem with a familiar reference. A twinkle in the eye. A song that reminds them of me. A hug within a word. Even if seemingly random, at these times I catch a glimpse of sincerity. It's strange to picture myself floating around in the heads of others. The calming thought that I am missed, dreamt of, or longed for, for who I am. It makes me feel peaceful. It makes me feel loved.
1:35 a.m. - 2008-03-15