Strangers- again.

Flowers aren't just used for big apologies.

When I walk into the kitchen, my heart hits the floor—because low-key, I'm still missing you.
You said that by now, we'd paint the walls of our shared apartment. You’d teach me how to swim.
We’d check out the new ice cream shop down the road.
But now it’s just me, standing in a hundred square feet of bittersweet memories—
still laying on our favorite couch, in your favorite t-shirt that I’ve kept all this time.

Sometimes, I wonder if you ever truly loved me.
Was I really the main character in your story—or was she always the plot twist?
All alone, I watch you watch her like she’s the only girl you’ve ever seen.
You don’t care. You never did. You don’t give a damn about me.

“I hate you.”
I wish I could say those three words out loud, but I’d be lying if I did.

Now we’re back to square one—
walking past each other like we’re strangers,
like we didn’t once share the same thoughts, the same dreams, the same playlist, the same everything.

Tell me—does your heart stop when my name drops?
Do you ever get déjà vu when you do the things we did… with her?
Do you ever pause, even for a second, and think of me?

Sometimes the hardest part isn’t letting someone go—
it’s accepting that the person you once turned to first is now just another face in the crowd.
How do I move on from someone who once meant everything,
and now they’re just a ghost—
a stranger wearing the face of someone I used to know?

Maybe I was just a fleeting chapter in your story,
one that had to end for you to move forward.
While you were my whole book, I was merely a few pages you could easily skip past.

I should have known—expectation is the root of all heartache.
It’s easier to mend a broken heart than rebuild broken trust.
One leaves scars; the other leaves doubt.

Time doesn’t erase the pain, but it does teach you how to live around it.
Funny how the ones who promise they’ll never hurt you… always do.

The boy who had been my anchor through every storm,
the one who shared countless late nights and whispered secrets with me—
is now just a blurry fragment of my past.

Funny how habits stay… but people always find a way to leave.
Sometimes the people you think are closest to you
are just the best at pretending.

And that’s what makes love cruel—
how it can burn so brightly,
and still leave you standing in the dark.

So goodbye, my favourite stranger.

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