I imagine you to be a quiet person. The socially awkward one, the one who likes the thought of being thought of as a thoughtful person, but one who ends up blurting out something irreversibly stupid. I imagine you to be romantic, believer of true love. One who dreams of kisses under pink skies. I imagine you to be intriguing and somehow delicate; like a cute little bird that needs to be observed from far. I imagine you to be private, one who locks up not only his words, but emotions inside pages that are shoved and buried inside the depths of your heart. I imagine you to be wearied by life, thinking about the future while you stir coffee.
Or maybe how I imagine you just reflects me.
The train of thoughts I had about a stranger walking down the street.