K, and Other Things I forgot.

How do you forget someone you once loved? Not someone that hurt you.Not someone you had to walk away from. Just someone who faded, quietly. No fight, nothing.

I randomly think of K.

I call him K because I don’t remember his real name anymore. And honestly, that’s wild to me, that someone who used to be such a big part of my everyday is now just a single letter in my head.

K was a dancer.He had this crew.He updated me about every concert, every rehearsal, every time he had to change a move last minute.

K didn’t just dance, He explained dancing.He made it sound deep, like your body could talk if you moved it the right way.

I didn’t fully get it, but I listened anyway. Because I liked listening to him. He was funny. He was warm. He was a really good listener too.

K was K.

And he called me Fish.I still don’t know why. Maybe I knew back then, but now? I don’t even remember. Maybe it was an inside joke, maybe it was just something he said. I don’t know.

And I know this is going to sound unbelievable. That I’d describe someone like this, talk about him with this much tenderness and still say I don’t know who he is.

But honestly, I don’t. Not anymore.I don’t even remember his face.I try to picture it, but nothing comes.

I try. I try so hard.But all I see are pieces. A blur. A voice. A nickname. A dance rehearsal. A text. A feeling.

And maybe that’s the part that hurts, that I forgot everything but the feeling.

Five years is a long time, I guess.But still how do you forget someone who made you feel so seen?

I don’t know how I carry him now.
Maybe I carry him in the ache.
In the questions. In the silence.
Maybe in the way I smile at dancers.

Or the way I save screenshots I know I’ll one day lose.I don’t know. But I know that I liked him.
And I know that forgetting him wasn’t something I chose , it was something that happened while I wasn’t looking.

And now, I just sit with the pieces.
Holding what’s left.
And letting that be enough.

Oh, and K and I?

We never even met.