When
    did I become an acquaintance, an object you pushed to the side, only used when necessary?

When
    was I not the first person you texted with news, not the first person you would say hi to in the morning, the first person on your mind?

When
    did you cut me off with rainbow bruises and lightning scars, and the thunder of your footsteps left me alone?

When
    did you create that perfect storm, that hurricane, that took me away, so now I don’t even know you anymore and I don’t even know what I would say to you now?

When
    did you stop loving me and

Why?