Unwillingly,
I will spend the rest of my life
looking for something that cannot me found.

The way you never cease to smile,
the way your nose wrinkles when you're confused,
or the way you grip my hair when you
fold me into your arms,
and laugh to hard,
and get too close for comfort,
and manage to brighten a room
without doing a thing,
and never understanding the use of a semi-colon.
Or, how you could never seem
to write your sentences correctly
and end up rambling on and on
until I can hear your thoughts through cold lips.

Can I just say,
I will spend the rest of my life,
hoping to find another you.