We are all around you. The breeze that rustles the leaves, the lock of hair magically blown away from your eyes. That touch on your shoulder, the caress on the back of your arm. When a book falls off a shelf or a drinking glass slides just a half inch, that was me.
Do you see me? Feel me touch you? Hear the whispers when you can't pinpoint who said it?
At night when you dream, sometimes I choose to enter those dreams or sometimes, I just watch you sleep as a soft smile forms on your lips.
Although you don't believe I'm around, I'm still here, still loving you. You just can't see me.
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