List #207: Times You Think of Me

All of the times

• You hear someone mention the library. Or when they talk about picking books up at their library. Or when someone says they know a librarian. You wonder if it's me, if I'm still sitting at the desk you visited, what dress I'm wearing, and if everything is still in its place.
• My earring is found at the bottom of your dresser drawer. Lost years ago, soon after I started spending the night, it a lot of time and a shake of a sock to finally reappear.
• You give someone space in the dresser I bought to match your bed. And left never to return again. 
• Someone in front of you orders a chai tea latte. It was my drink and it will always remind you of the way I'd curl my legs underneath me and blankets on Sunday mornings.
• After spring cleaning, when you find the book I loaned you at the back of your book shelf. A little bit dusty, but with the bookmark still in place.
• You're packing up the old apartment and the notes I'd leave on your pillowcase, after you left for class in the morning, are found in a stack of papers by your nightstand.
• Each and every time the Penguins win a game. The bar, the nights in front of the TV, the cheering, it all comes back.
• You stumble into the kitchen, after a few drinks, searching for Coke, or water, or Diet Mountain Dew. And you see the little trinkets I brought back for you, after weekend trips away, scattered in nooks across your kitchen.
• The song I danced to in your living room shuffles its way into your playlist. And you remember spring afternoons and the way I laughed when you laughed at me.
• My friends see you at work. This one is impossible to avoid.
• The first movie you made me watch is shown in the early morning hours when you can't sleep. It's easy to wonder if I'm not sleeping too, even if you have no clue where I'm sleeping these days.
• When we pass on the street, heading in different directions. And I don't look back or you don't look back. And that's just how it is.