i saw your younger brother at school today. you never introduced him to me (or vice-versa), but i recognized him from your family photos. my heart sank and my hands started involuntarily shaking. it hurt seeing him too, which was strange, because i don’t even know him and i bet he doesn’t know me. but it got me wondering if he even knows my name, knows my face, knows my voice. it got me pondering if you ever even talked about me to your friends or family and if they know that i exist, if they know how much of an impact i made on your life, and how i let you rest your heavy head on my shoulder when you mourned the love of your life with a still beating heart. does he (or anyone else for this matter) know the lengths i would’ve gone to make sure you were happy? the long nights i stayed up for you to make sure you were okay to drive home? do they know what kind of friend i was to you? anything at all? or was i just a shameful experiment? you know, i really don’t know what’s worse about all this– the fact that they don’t know that i exist, that i’m just a complete stranger in the crowd, just another face in the library, in the hallway, just anywhere they are or if by some mere miracle, let’s say, you did tell them my name, you did show them a photo, you did share your feelings about me– i honestly can’t tell what’s a worse scenario, being pitied, or being a nobody in the crowd. who am i to the people you love?