peipukinjsh

As I sit here in the cold, just like last year, you approach. It starts with a smile, then a "how are you?" and soon, we're joking around. Just like last year. You're just the same as you were then. "It's cold out here," still only brings a sarcastic, "No, really?" from you. Your eyes still search until they find my smile; you still stop to talk for a long while. It is I who has changed this time. I have grown up; I have moved on. I used to think things like, "You are the air I breathe." I know better now -- know that air is nitrogen, oxygen, carbon dioxide, and other assorted gases. Six months without you taught me that I can survive alon