It's late-autumn, the days are short, and I still find myself thinking about you more than I should.

Yesterday evening, I took a stroll around the city with a friend and was swept up in the slightest things that reminded me of you. 

This evening, I'm sitting here trying to type a paper as I wait for my coffee to slightly cool. And I'm trying my hardest to not look you up and check how you're doing. 

Now, I'm typing out this blog post because it's killing me. I thought I was over it, all of it. I know that you are going to come back eventually. But I just hope that by the time that you do visit, I'll back be to myself.

Back to before your entrance into my life.