And I've been thinking of her almost every time I'm not thinking of anything else. Which has been a lot.

Not thinking about anything about her, but just her... as her.

Not memories of her,
or her features,
or her personality,
or what she means to me or how I feel about her.

It's like I can't help but think about her and wonder why I'm thinking about her. Why I'm thinking about all of them, sometimes.

It's like instead of my mind going blank from thinking and overthinking and burning out, it goes to her.

She is all that blankness.

She's in the breaths of my conversations, the gaps between my thoughts, the anxious pounds of my heart against my bones, and the beat of my footsteps on my way home.

And I am all those insignificant pauses in time.

She's not in the back of my mind, but rather it feels like all my other thoughts are just threads leading to the thought of her.

Just her as her and her name.

As though stripped to the barest of her,
I think about her soul.