I've known you before.

You were a childhood friend, a common play date that was always by my side.

A smile that enveloped me in warmth. A laugh that loved and nurtured.

I had forgotten your name, but I know you.

Do you remember me?

My name?

I didn't think you did, until you showed up in my teenage years.

Everyone wanted you, but you sat at the emptier tables in lunch so they couldn't recognize you.

You weren't too far from me; I spared a few glances as others searched for you in the larger, more popular tables.

I wanted to see you, talk to you, but that would mean giving up what I had at my table.

I'm sorry
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