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I think of him when its raining and the weather is gloomy and the clouds come in the surround me just like he did for a short, short while.
I imagine he is sitting somewhere in New York right now drinking some awful Gin and Tonic drink , writing something about some girl in a bar.
Or he's walking with his jacket high up over his neck day dreaming of his long lost Juliet or maybe he's scheming something more like Macbeth.
I like to think he thinks of me from time to time, the girl he sent poems to on Valentines Day, the girl he talked about loving the ocean more than life.
I know it's a bit narcissistic and a bit conceited but I like to think he know's I think of him from time to time.
When La Vie En Rose comes on and when I'm walking down the freshly rained on streets humming a tune.
When I am alone in my room contemplating how I couldn't make things work with good people or when I re read those poems I keep hidden away in my closet.
I imagine he's sitting in New York at some trendy, dive bar, making friends with the bartender telling stories about his life.
I imagine he's writing something about a girl he's currently in love with and the features that makes him swoon because one day he will give those poems to her for Valentines day as well.
I imagine that the day he finds the Juliet to his Romeo- he won't need to think of the girl whose too far away and in love with the ocean anymore.
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