I know that, sometimes, I still look-at your profile, at the small traces you leave behind-half-expecting a song, a line, or something that still carries the Christmas spirit you used to have. But it’s become clear that you aren’t the same person anymore. That isn’t a bad thing. I hope you’re happy. I hope you’re doing well. I just don’t think I would recognize you now.
Maybe that’s fine. Maybe it’s just as likely that you don’t miss me either, that I’ve become unfamiliar to you too.
And I find myself asking, without urgency or expectation:
Who were we back then?
