Yes. Darn you. I'm so missing talking to you. I thought you would be there. At least when I'm dying I've someone to talk to, to keep my death note. D'oh. Okay, I'm exaggerated. Shouldn't be that way. But I really miss you..
I miss our long wandering talk. I miss buying time with you. I felt I got plenty of time left. I didn't feel rushed or exhausted. I enjoyed every single minute of that. And I miss that. I miss that a lot.
I even imagine you as that "secret messenger". You know, someone who came to your funeral and delivering something. Like when others put red roses on your grave, and then this guy, stepped out from the crowd, and put white lilies. The only white lilies there. As a matter of fact, it's the only white flower there. And then people started wondering "Why is he doing that? Why white lilies?" And perhaps, (or perhaps not) this secret messenger would say "She told me once that she loves white lilies". Fact that others don't know.
Well. Uhm. I wish I have a secret messenger. I thought it would be you. But, I dunno. Did I tell you enough secret? Did I even ever tell you any secret at all? I dunno. I don't even know if we can ever catch up everything again. I guess these long dried nights are missing both of us jerking their boring hours with noises from our busy fingers typing on the keyboards. And yes, darn.
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