I read once about a woman whose secret fantasy was to have an affair with an artist. She thought he would really see her. He would see every curve, every line, every indentation and love them because they were part of the beauty that made her unique.

I can hear the muffled noise of my brother's computer in the next room over.
I can hear the humming of my PC.
I can hear the wind and the bugs and the neighbours next door.
(They're very loud, its rather unfortunate).

Crush. It's funny how the same word for the feeling of disappointment can be used for the feeling of attraction. The Oxford English Dictionary states one of the meanings for the word crushed as "a strong and unreasoning, but transitory attachment."

I miss my best friend. I don't know why. I just do.
I miss the feel of rain on my shoulders, I miss the harsh cold winter wind.
I miss walking and feeling like I can go anywhere.
I miss noticing the small things, like leaves or cracks in the ground.

Within this frozen world I'm able to walk freely and unnoticed. Nobody would even know that time has stopped. And when it started back up again, the invisible join would be seamless except for a slight shudder. Not unlike the feeling of somebody walking over your grave.

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