Short Stories Of Love (COMPLETED)

Crazy

I spoke to someone today that I can say without doubt, has the same adoration for him that I do.
Isn't it crazy?
I certainly never thought I'd see the day.
We've reminisced about all those old stories.
The sad ones, the happy ones, the ones about the end.
She opened my mind up to a whole new level.
She showed me not to ignore the random moments when I can smell patchouli in the air even when I'm not wearing it.
Those moments when I'm sad and feel a sudden comfortness wash over me.
She said she can feel his presence.
Can feel his soul.
She tells me of the detailed dreams she has every night and although I've only had a few I can relate wholeheartedly.
Beautifully enough when I described that smell of patchouli she admitted that she too was familiar with that scent.
With his scent.
She's shared her poems about him with me and they brought tears to my eyes that I thought were dried up.
It's not a coincidence.
I've tested her enough to know.
It's just special to have someone who can relate.
Refreshing to speak to someone who knows.
Who understand.
Who can feel him too.
Maybe it's crazy.
I knows it's crazy.