As the days grow longer, colder (further) I find myself thinking fondly of you. Our mind's eye tends to idealise beyond that of human scope, of that of reality. My longing is beginning to take on a life of its own. I feel, sometimes, as if I know things about you in which I can never recall you revealing (or me discovering). The distance allows me to grow closer to you with every passing day. I love you sometimes but not because of your bright blue eyes or dashing smile, but because of the memory of you overwhelms my being.