under the rare same moon.

I find myself thinking of him while watching the blades of the ceiling fan go round and round in an attempt to tire these alert eyes connected to an even more alert brain. This occurrence has lessened to a faint whisper compared to the overwhelming loudness it once was. Our time had come and gone (if it ever really came at all) with the memories still fully intact, just stowed away a little deeper than before. But, it's on a night like tonight while under the same stars in close proximity that he is more than just a faint whisper.