It has just rained. It is 11 PM. You are probably on your way home, hungry and tired, and frankly, so am I.

It is nights like this when I miss you the most - when I could tell you'd text me or call, looking for company or food or any other kind of small comfort. It's times like these I know somehow you'd seek me out, and I'd feel how you treasured and valued me in ways nobody else does.

Right now I am still waiting for someone to seek me out. But nobody did it like you.