Ever since I've met Kazimir, even with my rejection of not wanting to marry someone I do not know, even with the feelings of disgust– I've always felt that I was wrong. Wrong for treating him like so.
A drop of guilt would fall on me every time I treat him indifferently.
At first, I thought it was because I realized that being married to him was not his fault because in the first place, this marriage was not wanted by him,either.
But as time passed by, the guilt gradually formed into familiarity.
From the way he fixed his hair, to the way he would tap his toes before he would walk. It was something familiar but no matter how hard I try to recall, I can't find a memory about him.
"Do I know you?" I asked Kazimir who was still looking down at the plate.
When he had not responded, I ca
