no subject

Dear Future Me, do you remember who is this for.. Her face lingers like a quiet haunt in the corners of my mind. I barely knew her, a fleeting intersection of lives, but her beauty cut deep—sharp, effortless, like sunlight breaking through a storm. In a sea of blurred faces, she was one of a kind, a vivid pulse of color against a monochrome tide. Her hair, a stunning cascade of red, burned like embers against her skin, catching every light and drawing every eye. It wasn’t just her beauty, though it was staggering: eyes that shimmered with unspoken stories, deep and searching, as if they could see through the mask I wear; a smile that danced, fragile yet knowing, carrying the weight of a thousand untold secrets. It was her way of being—her grace, a melody that moved through the world, effortless yet achingly human. She’d tilt her head when she listened, as if she could hear the heartbeat behind my words, and her laugh, soft and sudden, was a sound that could unravel time itself, holding me captive in its echo. Our meeting was a fleeting anomaly, a spark in the mundane—a chance crossing that felt like fate’s sleight of hand. Yet its brevity belies its weight; she reshaped the contours of my inner world. She left me restless, chasing the echo of her presence in quiet moments, her image surfacing unbidden in the stillness of dawn or the ache of midnight. I see her in the flicker of red hair in a crowd, in the cadence of a stranger’s laugh, and each time, my heart lurches, caught in the pull of what was and what might’ve been She shifted something in me, made me question the boundaries of connection, the way a stranger can become a cornerstone of your thoughts in a moment. I try to let her go, to loosen the grip of that memory, but it’s etched into my bones, vivid and unyielding. That single glance across a crowded room, the brief cadence of her voice in our fleeting conversation—it should’ve faded, but it’s grown sharper, heavier, a wound I don’t want to heal. Her red hair burns in my mind’s eye, a beacon I can’t turn away from. I wonder where she is now, if she feels the ripple of her existence in my heart, if she knows how her fleeting presence carved a hollow in me, filled with a longing that hums like a song I’ll never stop hearing.