_I deleted your number though I didn’t know you were coming back 2 years later. This time last year I hated you and cringed at the sound of your very name. My heart still folded in the squares of my pocket. I still wonder what you did with the note I gave you. I don’t even remember what I had written down. I could swear on my life you had thrown it out the window within the first 10 minutes of holding it in your callused hands. Your hands were always unique. They always had dirt on them. Like it was etched into your skin, unable to scrub away. And those boney fingers that looked like there was nothing but skin wrapped around a thin stick. Though somehow I still remember them. And how I remember them I cannot forget. You made sure of that. Indelible is what I called you. Indelible. I bet you didn’t even know what it meant. _