Best of Strangers
Have I really changed that much? It seems like everyone I’ve known has mentioned it to me. I thought I was supposed to know myself best. But everyone thinks they’ve figured me out. Which makes me what? An aimlessly simple-minded person. I know I keep saying this but I wish everything was back to the way it was before. When I didn’t know much. When I played the world by ear. No one knew anyone, and it was just fine that way. That was the way I liked it. Close as can be. I liked it when we were the best of strangers. Perfectly flawed. But now I know you, and I miss you more than anything. Sometimes I’ll stay awake at night thinking about what it would be like to see you again. I get nervous when I drive by your neighborhood, scared if I’ll see your face and what to say if I were to ever run into you. I get a sense of hope that I will see you this time and then it’s all washed away when I don’t see you. I miss you. Everything about you. Your voice, your face, the way you smelled, the way your hair turns into curls at the ends, your music taste, your hands, our all-nighters, the way you would show up at my house without calling; suprising me everytime. I love everything about you. I hate how everything ended.
