She wished she could get inside his head. Climb in and go deep down. Maybe she’d be able to find every thought he’s ever had of her. She’d spend hours and hours studying and analyzing every single one of his thoughts—good or bad—trying to understand him. Him… A picture comes to mind. He’s laughing. He turns and looks at her, their eyes lock for a moment, and then he looks away. What is he thinking? What’s going through his head? Is it her? Does he think of her? Does he miss her? Does he miss her, even a little?
She wished she could get inside his head.