Hey stranger.

It’s been a month or two, probably more, but I still find myself thinking about you. I remember the first time we talked, I couldn’t stop laughing and our conversation just seemed to flow so naturally. I remember thinking, “Is this it?” We talked for hours, not seeming to run out of things to talk about. We called both in the morning and at night — starting and ending my day with you seemed like the right thing to do. It wasn’t long until I realized I felt something more for you and that I needed more from you, from us. I was confident you felt the same.

You fed me the sweetest words until I was full, you made my heart flutter in the simplest of ways, and your laugh was something I could listen to forever. I was confident you felt the same. I was wrong.

It was confusing — to be treated with kindness and almost, almost, almost with love and be told there wasn’t anything. I asked you, for clarity, because surely no one will feel special unless treated as such.

But maybe that’s all you were.

Kind.