Stranger
You looked at me like I was a stranger, and at times I wished I was one. At least then I could pretend to not know you and be able to move on.
But I do know you and it hurts more because of it. Its hurts to see you and see the shell of the person I remember, the person I looked up to, the person I admired and respected.
It hurts to see a stranger when I look at that face I had made fond memories with. The same face of the person I trusted with my secrets. The same face that looked at me with unconditional love. Now I look at it and all I feel is strangeness.
How could that happen?
I want to ask that. I want to ask why you look at me with such hatred when not months ago, you looked fond. And I know that if I did, I would be giving up a piece of me that I hold dearly. And I doubt I can ever survive that.
Maybe all I wish is to forget the person I knew and that I could look at you and feel nothing. Maybe you could be as much of a stranger to me as I am to you...
