Do they remember me too?

I sometimes think about people I barely knew but who impacted me in weird ways.

Like the kid in my 5th-grade class who randomly told me I had a “cool laugh.” I still think about that sometimes.

Or the old man at the coffee shop who gave me a life lesson about patience while we waited for our orders.

Or the stranger who helped me when I dropped my things in a rush.

I wonder if they even remember me. Because I remember them.

And maybe that’s the strange thing about life—we walk in and out of each other’s stories, never knowing if we were just a moment or a memory.