1.10.25: Her

When he saw her, he knew. It wasn’t dramatic, just a quiet certainty, like slipping on a shirt that fits perfectly. He didn’t know her name, her story, or if she believed ice cream cake was a dessert or a gimmick. None of it mattered. Time bent around her, slowing to a still frame he felt only he could see. The world faded into a soft blur, leaving just her—a stranger who somehow felt like a missing piece he’d never realized was gone. He couldn’t explain it, didn’t try to. All he knew was that everything suddenly made sense.