Sunday, January 11, 2015

January 9th, 2015

There are times when I wonder how things could have ever gotten so complicated. It's just one of those things, I guess. Even her face looks different to me now.

It feels strange not to miss her company. To be in the same room with her and feel as though neither of us are actually there. She's a stranger, and in her presence I feel like I might be a stranger myself. It's that severed connection that's causing the trouble. The information comes down the line the way it's supposed to, but that break in the connection lets it all seep out and float away into pieces I can't recognize. And I can't remember what I can't recognize. 
And maybe that's what feels so odd about it all. The knowledge that someone I once could have picked out of a crowd is now camouflaged by truths I hadn't seen. 
Like a mirage. So much time spent walking toward an image that never gets closer; that, with time even seems further than it was to begin with.
You start to feel silly, foolish even.
It's not the most pleasant of revelations.
But then, it wasn't real, so it really doesn't matter anyhow.

Even still, there's still some kind of vacancy.
A tiny spot where the air runs through instead of around,
and you can hear it whistle faintly on windy days.
An odd, lonely, confused sort of sound.

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