I just opened your page and watched your picture. I do this sometimes. Then I realize how much I missed you.
I hold my cup with both hands sipping all the warmth and long for a conversation over its dying steam.
I wonder about my life if you hadn't gone. I imagine the many mochas, the many conversations, the many hikes, the many travels, the many adventures. I imagine the calm and assurance in your presence. And I wonder how it is for you in your untraceable emigration. I know how it is for me.
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