Sunlight Through Broken Blinds

He found me at a time when the city felt like it was closing in, you know? Like all these concrete walls were just reflecting back my own mess. I wasn't looking for anyone, not really. Just…avoiding glances on the subway, trying to be invisible in crowded cafes.
Then there was him, leaning against that brick wall, a cigarette burning between his fingers – a bad habit, but somehow it fit with the whole troubled artist vibe he had going on. We started talking. Or rather, he’d make some offbeat comment about something and I'd find myself answering back. A shared look. A silent agreement to just *be* in that moment.
He wasn’t a fix for anything, not at all. He was more like…a different kind of broken. But sometimes, doesn’t it feel right when the pieces fit together in a way they shouldn't? It scared me how easily he saw through my carefully built walls.
I still don’t know where things are going with us, and maybe that’s okay. Maybe some connections aren’t meant to be solved or categorized. Just…felt.

Editor: Alleyway Friend