Don't Read This.

My hands are cold today. I can't shake that.

Do you know, today, I put on that old shirt and that scarf. Something I wore, one day, with you. You wouldn't remember. But this morning, I thought of that day. I got dressed to that day.

It's not important, I don't think. The details. But sometimes, somehow, they become bigger then they were. Magnified through time and seperation and imagination.

You know, it's funny how it always comes back to you. Even - especially - when I don't want it to.

I never did want it to.

But I think there were moments when I knew it would.

If I'm lucky, you'll never see this. You'll never know this.

(But you know I'm rarely lucky, and I'm always, always cold.)

S.