Because sometimes I think about him.

I talked to him for maybe thirty minutes, thirty of the thousands that I've been alive. I've never been a big believer in love at first sight (hell, at this point I'm not even sure if I believe in love), but if such a thing exists, this was it. A year and a half ago, I was working and he came in with his father and sister. His dad actually started talking to me, complimented me on my Pink Floyd shirt, but then we started talking...

I found out that he lived six hours away, was visiting his dad in my town. Well, I thought, that kills that. He had to leave with his family.

I told a friend at lunch that I had fallen in love that morning, only partially kidding.

Three hours later, he's back. His dad had driven him back to ask for my phone number, which I gave him.

I waited anxiously for his call, but I was out when he called the first time. The second time he called, we talked. I had so much I wanted to say but it all would have sounded to weird, so I didn't. I could feel the same thing about him through his voice, he was terribly depressed. I could feel that he had been going through the same things as I had, but how could I say this out loud?

He was so sad. He told me he'd call me again after his 22nd birthday (which was in 2 days), but I knew that he wouldn't. I didn't even wait for the call, I was that certain.

I saw his dad when I worked again the next summer, but I didn't say anything to him. Every once in a while he crosses my mind, and I wonder if maybe he's thinking of me just then, for a fleeting second, because I believe it is impossible to let someone touch you so deeply through a chance encounter without leaving your mark as well.

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