Remember him now. Those burgundy pants that seemed to clash so hard against his hair. The easy smiles. The effortlessness of air. Remember the one and only time his lips touched you. A brush on your neck and you both knew in that broken pocket, that open crack that you would be forever one and you never laughed. And your hands, they found each other. Still. When the glass shatters you do not go. You do not say good-bye. You know he has left you for you to find another. More broken glass to step through. But you will.