No, not just that. Well, maybe partly that. I did wonder if he really meant it, or if that’s just the kind of thing an older man says to a college g...rl when he wants to sleep with her. Even if it was, I can’t deny it had a profound effect on me. When a handsome, older man with brains and a decent eye for art tells you that you’re beautiful, I think you have to at least try to believe that he means it.I glanced at my phone. Nothing. Before I left him last night, I'd put my number in his phone. " So, how do we work on the love?" You just need to think of Will first. In everything. When you get up in the morning, think of him. When you eat, think of him. When you are ready to feel his body move inside yours, think of him. Take him and hold him inside your brain. Soon, he will be inside your heart, as well. See, love isn't something you feel, it is something you do which affects everything you feel and do. Would you try to do that?" It sounds backwards. I mean, thinking first, then. One thing I didn't like about the job was that all the senior reporters, editors and copywriters thought they were the cream on top of the milk, we juniors had to call them Mr. Cull, Mr. Jones, Mrs. Jacobs or Miss Lane or whatever, whereas they only ever used surnames when they yelled for a boy across a busy office. All day long it was Clarke get this - Clarke take that - Clarke go and get - and while I was by now used to it, it grated a bit when they still called me Clarke at the Christmas. The apparitions lie where you are always lingering in my periphery, remnants of how we’d come to know each other in the most intimate of ways. Often the spectres flashing into view strike with such clarity I have to question if you weren’t just a figment of my imagination all along.These vestiges of you are imprinted in everything. I hear the sweet timbre of your voice, softly singing as we danced together in the moonlight. I smell your cologne on my pillow, a woody scent that reminds me of the.