Warning: -----------------------------------------
The man you have seen for the past 3 years does not exist.
You saw him every day for the past 3 years of living in your apartment. He has messy blond hair and dull blue eyes.
He does not exist.
You did not know his name, nor you ever will. He will always stay a distant memory, imprinted on that water cooler in the lobby of your apartment; the imprint that no one but you can see.
He does not exist.
The man who always stood with his thermos, pressing on the cold water button of the water cooler every morning when you go to work, and sit idly on a couch in your apartment's lobby, does not exist.
Because one day he disappeared. And no one talked about him.
In fact, no one seems to know him at all.
You saw him with another person once or twice. They talked like they were both the best of friends. But when you asked of that man, the person looked at you weirdly. "I don't know anyone like that," they said. And you stood confused.
That man does not exist.
You start to think that you have been imagining him all along, but you knew that he existed, in your bones, deep, deep down.
Because once, you dropped your room key. That man noticed, picked it up for you, and handed you the key with a small, sad smile.
You remembered him clearly.
But no one knows him.
You started to think that you might be imagining things, but when you went to see a psychiatrist, they learned that there is nothing wrong with you.
You want to forget him, to bury the memory of that stranger you have seen for years in the deep memory field. But you cannot. Your conscious will not let you. Because it knows, it knows that there is something wrong.
But that man does not exist.
He never has, and never will.
He has to not exist.
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