Minuscule adaptations form with each sunrise and go unnoticed until you look back at an old photograph, or think about something that happened with an old friend who is now a stranger that you know nothing about.
You are your own doppelganger.
The girl sitting in the theatre playing obnoxious games with her loud, aspiring individualistic friends seems like a stranger to me.
It is impossible to pinpoint the moment when things started to change and I lost sight of that girl, and who she wanted to be.
At the least, I wonder when everything started to shift. What caused the imbalance?
Now I sit alone in classes I don't care to pursue with no sense of aspiration towards anything.
I remember all of the laughter and the sleepovers, gossiping about everything.
I remember random details and insignificant everyday stories that could take up hours upon hours of reiterating.
When a friendship terminates what are you supposed to do with all of your old shared secrets? Where are you supposed to put those memories?
The girl I am right now doesn't talk to those people anymore and I can hardly remember what it felt like to be in her shoes,
and all I really have is knowing things about the people that they used to be.