Of course I know you. I’ve seen you before, well… I dreamed of you. But no, not really a dream per se, more like a feeling. I felt you. Wasn’t it you? That warm sensation in my spine, the winged bugs in my chest, as you passed in front of me… I could have sworn it smelled like how you smell. No, I don’t know you. You just look like… like you could make me happy. Your hands, they seem crafty, quick-thinking fingers, able to weave my sorrow into something else… could you stay long enough to teach me? Do you know me? I hope not or at least not who I was ten years ago, or even last night. I’m not like that anymore, except for the parts I still keep. I tried, I really did, but I can’t unlearn it. We could learn each other…get to know each other. I can turn anything into a joke, really. I could make your lips ache from smiling… at least I’d try. Do you have stories? I’d love to listen to them; who wronged you, and how you made it right for you. Would you like a coffee? The kettle’s on. Sparkling water? No? I made hummus, and I still have some leftover cake. If this is nothing, let it be a good nothing.