I see you everywhere, all the time.

I see you in between every bubble formulating on top of my morning coffee, as I sit there remembering the deepest thoughts we’ve discussed over that same cup.

I see you in every song that randomly chooses to play in the background, with every lyric taking me back to you no matter what it might’ve originally meant.

I see you in every book I come across, and every perfectly-phrased sentence the writer uses to describe what my mind always chooses to relate back to us.

I see you in my own words every time I disconnect from the world and pour my thoughts out, for the undeniable fact that you’ve taken over almost all of them.

I see you in all the places we’ve been together, and those still written all over my mental to-visit-with-you list that you’ve never even known anything about.

I see you in every face in the most crowded of places, and I see you in every figure I spot from a distance, with an unconscious desire of them all magically turning out to be you.

I see you in every person who sees something in me, for you’ve already seen everything that I am and everything I’m finally in love with.

I see you every time I look straight into anyone’s eyes, as they only reflect what they see in mine; how immensely engrossed I am in all what you are.

I see you every time I look back at my own figure in a mirror, always stunned at how I carry the littlest pieces of you that you might’ve never realized you’ve passed onto anyone.

I see you in everything I am, and everything I do.

And for the first time in forever, I don't seem to mind it.

Not even slightly.

Not a tiny little bit.

Not at all.

January 13, 2014