I am a hopeless romantic.And not just in relationships, but in life. I love a good daydream. I love a good memory. I love replaying moments in my head like they were scenes from my favorite movie. Sorry, not sorry, I can’t help it.

When I saw that photo later, my stomach dropped. The girl I saw didn’t look like the one I felt like these past couple of months. And since then, it’s been hard not to replay that moment in my head, wondering if the confidence I felt was all in my imagination.

She was 33, the kind of woman who always remembered your birthday, showed up with snacks for the group chat link-up, and kept bobby pins in her bag just in case someone’s curls needed saving.