Still.
It's funny. I haven't thought about you in years, haven't heard from you until several months ago, and haven't lived in this house since I was 24, yet because of you, I'm STILL nervous about leaving the bedroom window cracked while I'm sleeping. Thankfully, the bed is no longer located under the window, and there are now two curtains blocking whatever is outside from looking in. A small comfort in a room with too many memories, not all of them good.