Couldn't help but share this small paragraph from the book I'm reading, "Just Send Me Word" where the main character writes to the love if his life after a brief meeting.

"You are still everywhere with me. If something lovely comes to mind - a melody, or a piece of Pushkin or Burns or a painting - I think of you and see you, your face and eyes, and I feel easier remembering your smile. When I hear a melody I know you like, it seems I'm listening to it with you and I grow clamber, more able to bear things. I became kinder to people. My Sveta, how wonderful it is that there is you, that always and in everything - poetry or prose, in music, or even in my circuit diagrams, I see only you."