We are just strangers now. It hurts to be treated like I'm just anyone.
If you saw me walking past you on the street, would you call my name? Or would you let me go, as just another blur of memory, of once was.

When I look back at the beauty and vitality of the moment, I see only a mere façade. The euphoric moment was glorified, the reminiscence was made far more resplendent and expressive than that autumnal dawn all those seasons ago. I cherished a memory but built the lost pieces from the depths of my mind. The fabricated recollections are all I have now. The fragments of a lost time where the world was bathed in a warm incandescent glow.