When i think about you it is strange , it is fuzzy primarily because I do not know how to think about you. You had always been around and you had been concerned, you had been a friend and you had also been a confidant. You had been a co-conspirator and you had also been a teacher. You had been my reason for optimism, sometimes also the reason for my laughter and you had been my reason for stability.
Those mornings when I am having my coffee, I miss you then, miss the many coffees we had, the way you spoke to me told me about the books you have read, are going to read, telling me about your life, your dreams, your big plans your fascinating ideas, your feelings for the woman you loved.
I miss how we spoke for hours at length and never got tired. I miss the silences too which when they were there were understood. I miss the drunken nights of uncontrollable laughter and funny stories, some heart warming tales too which made us so violently emotionally.