Soren.
I blink, like maybe I’m reading it wrong. I haven’t talked to him in years. Not except in the occasional passing comment.
Not that we ever did connect properly at all. Not really. We stayed connected in that passive way people do when they briefly existed in the same orbit and never fully left it.
We met at a college party. Forgettable—except for him.
He was striking. Stood out in the crowd. Didn’t seem to be buying into all the party bullshit the same way everyone else was.
There was a moment. Something that almost happened. And then didn’t. No follow-up, other than exchanging socials. No progression. Just a shift back into normal life like it hadn’t meant anything.
But it did.
At least to me.
I always wondered what would have happened if I’d leaned into it. If I hadn’t walked away so easily. If I’d stayed just a little longer.
Life moved. I moved with it. And he became one of those people who exists in the background of your life—familiar, but distant. A name. The occasional post.
Spiders, apparently, are his thing.
I open the message.
Soren:
I’ve been watching you.
I didn’t like what I saw.
My chest tightens. It shouldn’t feel this good to be noticed. This relieving to be remembered.
Especially when the message sounds a little like pity.
Or judgement.
Or both.
Soren:
I hope things are going in the right direction?
You don’t look like yourself.
Ouch.That one stings, even though it’s true.
Then it hits me. Fire crawls up my chest and across my cheeks.
A couple of months ago, when everything was happening, I posted too much. I said things I probably shouldn’t have. I didn’t filter anything. I just… wrote it all out. Put it on blast to several thousand of my closest friends, acquaintances, frenemies, and randoms I’ve added along the way.
At the time, I didn’t care. I thought if it helped even one person feel less alone, it was worth it. And it felt good to get out of my system.
Now I feel exposed. Like he saw all of it. Like people actually read and digested it and thought about it in some capacity.
Still, he reached out.
That part sticks.
That part lands.