You got on the M train heading into Manhattan at maybe Flushing or Lorimer, wearing a brownish olive coat with a colorful orange skirt and black boots. You sat across from me, who was wearing a wax coat and corduroy pants. I was reading on my phone when you walked in, but as soon as I saw you it felt like the air had been sucked out of the car and I couldn't focus, I had to put it away. We each watched the sunset behind the other's head as we passed over the Williamsburg Bridge, I was trying not to look at you, though we caught each others' eyes a few times. As we went into the darkness I could tell you were getting off at Delancey, and my heart pounded as you got up and we made eye contact one last time. It took me a minute to compose myself as the train rattled on and you walked to wherever you were going, almost certainly not feeling what I did. Either way, thank you for knocking me off kilter and making me feel something after weeks of progressing numbness. You were the first inspiration I've had to write in a long time.