Short Story: Strangers

“Do you know her?” I heard him ask. And you said YES.

Indeed, you’re probably right. We know each other. It’s been like this for more than a decade now, hasn’t it? And yet, we’re just like strangers.

I sometimes wonder, if we met at the street, would we say ‘Hi’ or we’d just go on our paths without even recognizing each other?

I think about you sometimes, you know? I think about the times when we’d play together, we were best friends back then. Do you remember?

And then we grew up. We became different people who no longer had anything in common. We aren’t the children we used to be, we’re not the friends we were.

There’s some irony to it, don’t you think? And some tragedy too. Because I’ve always loved you in a way. And that love has changed during the years. Has it grown or has it gone the exact opposite direction, I cannot tell. But I know it has changed.

So as I already said, I think about you once now and then. It’s usually late at night when I can’t fall asleep. I lie in my bed in the darkness, I look at the inky sky outside my window and think about you. And those aren’t some certain thoughts. Don’t get the impression I imagine you and I getting married one day. I’m too much of a realist for that. No. I just lie and think about the last time we met and how much you had changed. We hadn’t seen each other for about four years, is that right? You had outgrown me in height and you had lost that little-boy look you used to have before. Your hair wasn’t golden blond anymore. It had darkened, and so had your eyes. When you said ‘Hi’ I barely heard you and yet I momentarily felt the change in your voice. When we last met we spent three days together and on those three days we talked only once.

Do you remember?

You had just arrived, it was about 1 or 2 a.m. and we went to buy beer. You didn’t know the way and I was too afraid to go by myself. So we both headed to the supermarket. It was about a ten-minute walk. There were absolutely no lamps to light the way so we walked in absolute darkness. From time to time I had to take you by the hand where I knew there was something in the way that you could not see. I was nervous because your step-mother had told me you had become a bully of some sort and for more than an hour she wouldn’t stop complaining about your terrible behavior. And yet, there you were, walking beside me, and talking as if I were some priest and you were making a confession. I had never heard anyone speak so honestly to me. You said that you wanted to change, to go back to the person you once were, you didn’t want to disappoint your father… but you know what you never said? You didn’t say a thing about me. I didn’t notice that then and I was pleased by the talk we were having, but now the more I think about it, the worse I feel, because you never said anything about me. If you wanted to go back to the one you used to be, why not come to me? I was part of that person! We grew up together and all we’ve been through, we’ve been through it together!

But then BAM! And everything went to hell.

Do you remember when it happened? Do you remember when our paths went different ways? Because I can’t seem to recall that specific moment.

And this is sad really. Tragic if you might. Because I sometimes think about you and I wonder, do you think about me too? When we last met, did you notice all the changes in me the way I did in you? And did you recall the image of the little girl I used to be?

“Do you know her?” I heard him ask. And you said YES.