I met you by chance, not knowing where it would go. I took one look at you and deep down I knew. One week later, still we talk, though it's not often. Two days after the week, the butterflies come with vicious might. One thought of you and they start flying. 
One thing I hate, is not having control. But you, although far, have taken over my mind. I do not like it, but I don't mind. I often wonder...

Do you ever have the feeling of going?
The feeling of going home?
The feeling of going somewhere?
The feeling of leaving the house and following where you heart leads you is etched deep in your bones. Etched deep in your gut.
The feeling never leaves you. It comes and goes. Not like the seasons, but like the sun and the moon.
The feeling hits you out of nowhere and leaves you yearning to go.
But go where? Here?...

"Will the fog ever lift?" I asked the man walking next to me before focusing back on the road we've been walking down for hours.
The man chuckled, "Many people have asked the same question, young one. No matter how many times I have been asked, my answer will always remain the same."
"Then what's your answer?"
He looked at me with a small, sad smile, "The day it does, is the day we die."
At first I didn't know...