The sun rose this morning on a largely sleepless night. Crazy traffic in Delhi just a clock, I searched among the people, knowing that it is folly, but hoping to see your profile, find your eyes looking at me, see your smile that opens when I say, "Surprise."
How long I do not see your smile ... I miss him so much, I miss him more the air we breath, and breath in a long, long time. I tried it, I'm looking for, but maybe try in the wrong places, or maybe the wrong way, or maybe it's hidden too well ...
The deafening noise of clackson, the colleague sitting next to me is explaining what I do not know about Thailand, and I think of you. I think as I can see you, I think of when I can lose myself again in your wonderful eyes, as I can hold you again in my arms and whispered I love you.
I think of when you call me in the middle of the night just to hear my voice. Think about when you called me, and it did not matter when you were happy to hear. I think of how many times we've been hours on the phone, even if maybe we'd meet the next day. I think of how many nights I fell asleep wishing you good night, certain that you, even ten thousand miles away, I'd heard.
I miss you, love. I miss your presence. I miss your absence present, when I knew for sure that even if you were not there at that time were you thinking of me as I was thinking about you. I miss the telepathy that united us, and that would join us if we wanted to hear it again.
And even tonight, returning to the hotel, I seek you among the people, hoping to see crazy as you are smiling at me. And wait for your call in the middle of the night, and your voice telling me: "Hello, love, I can not sleep and I wanted to hear."
And if you come, be patient. Crazy traffic in Delhi just a clock, you will also try tomorrow.
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