Reminiscing.

I'm sitting on the floor by my bed, smelling the powdery fresh traces of the bottle of Protex on my windowsill and drinking apple-cider vinegar in hot water.  Good for the digestion, I've been told.  The cup is steaming.  My window's wide open and my music is turned up, filtering "Can You Find Me" by The Summer Set out onto the street like the "Don't Stop Believing" of 2010.  A vanilla candle flickers orangely by the window screen.

"Do you dream of me when the lights go down?  And do you breathe me in the smoke from your cigarettes?  Do you feel me with every breath?"

Because God knows I do.  Every breath I've taken, every sight my eyes have seen, every smell of Protex, has been for you.

How ironic.  I'm listening to a sad-happy song, on a fairly warm March day in Prince George, and it's even sunny out, and I can tell that you've forgotten.

Forgot, or maybe never remembered?  You won't find this.  You'll never read this.  But should you come across it one day, you'll know it's for you.

I found you.  I could find you in a room full of thousands.

Now it's your turn.

Come find me.