I crossed more than 1,000 miles for the man I had never truly forgotten. By the next morning, he was gone, and one detail inside his house made my heart skip a beat

The kind you don’t forget.

I remember going home that night unable to sleep.

I kept replaying parts of our conversation.

His laugh.

The way he leaned forward whenever I said something serious.

The small pause before he answered difficult questions.

I told myself not to be foolish.

I was 29, not 19.

Still, I wanted to see him again.

For the next few weeks, Thomas became part of my days with surprising ease.