Turning Tables.

How is it feasible that someone we once thought we loved, we now feel nothing for?

How is it that when I look at you, I’m unable to recognize you standing in front me?

You, nobody I feel I ever met before.

I ask myself have I suppressed the memory of you so much so that you no longer exist?

Is it that I’ve hurt so much, I no longer feel the agonizing pain I once both suffered and endured?

Or is that in walking away from you and all that this is, has made it so that you are no longer close enough to hurt me?

Walking away, I hadn’t anticipated the possibility of having to see you ever again.

Forcing me to impose questions of curiosity, for if and when that very occasion ever arises. Such, on how I would act? Or If I should pretend to care to catch up?  Or maybe I’d save both of us from the awkward conversation, and just ignore you. Treating you as any other stranger I walk amongst in public. Perhaps you’d prefer that.

Truthfully, if I had it my way, I would re-introduce myself. For the old me, now someone I too, used to know.

I, now different from what I once was. Grown, far and distant from who you once knew. Me, unable to fathom the very idea that you and I would ever be in close enough proximity to carry conversation.

Now anxiety ridden, I sit in the dark sobbing at the unpreparedness I now allow to weigh me down.  Out of sight, really taking you out of mind.

Next time, if ever we do indeed cross paths, you’ll have remained the same. But me. I, I’ll be different. Introducing myself with the same name, but a whole new identity.

……………………………………      So tell me again, what’s your name and where are you from?

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