To A Stranger You Pass On The Street

I bumped into a stranger the other day. She stopped and asked me how I was; what I was doing with my life.

It felt awkward. I told her I was working, doing a job I love and I am back home living with my parents after three years away. I asked her the same questions back – “How are you? What are you doing in life?”

She pretty much said the same thing back – “I’m busy working. I have got myself a car to take me there and back each day from my parents house”.

We exchanged smiles for a few moments and stood hovering on our feet awkwardly unsure of what to say next.

After a couple of minutes of awkwardly looking around for something else to say, I wished her well and went on my way.

That was my best friend. Emphasis on was.

I once shared my secrets with her. I once saw her everyday. I once cried of happiness with her. I once cried of sadness with her. I once was her best friend. cbfd6e7ff9e3e5bfa950b524bb75bfec

Isn’t it weird how somebody who was once your everything can now be a complete stranger?

We never fell out, ever. We just grew apart. After years and years together, just me and her, we slowly drifted into totally different friendship groups and saw less and less of each other.

Days without speaking turned into weeks; weeks turned into months; months turned into years…

And look where we are now – A stranger you pass on the street.

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