i walked past a stranger today, but it was strange how i still loved him. not the him who walked past me, but the him who kissed my forehead on nights i thought the dark would consume me. the him who traced circles on my wrist as though he could press himself into my pulse. the him who taught me how to fall, but not how to land. i walked past a stranger today, but it was strange how he didn’t look back. as if he had already forgotten how i fit into his life, how i became the air he once swore he couldn’t live without. and here we are, breathing. — something I wrote on my notes app late at night.