The train kept rolling.
She remained seated.
He took the next stop.
The clock kept ticking.
The time kept passing.
He appeared in her dream and asked softly, “How do you see me now?”
She hesitated, a bittersweet smile tugging at her lips. “A known stranger” she whispered. “A stranger my heart cries for. A stranger whose absence feels louder than his presence ever did. A stranger whose voice still echoes in the corners of my mind, haunting me like an unfinished song.”
Her voice trembled, but she continued...
“A stranger I now spend my time with, through memories that refuse to fade, through silent conversations with the night, through every moment where I pretend I’m okay and that I’ve moved on but deep down, I know I never have.”
I bet the stranger you remember is different from the actual stranger who's gone
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