If I know Not You

I stare at the phone, but I don't know what to say. Where would I start? Where would we even begin to pick up? I look around and I see things changing and I am in awe of how different things are now than they used to be. I feel like I need to share in the awe with someone. You're the only one who knows what a miracle this is. You're the only one who has been around me long enough to appreciate the changes I've made. A smile plays on my lips as I remember our rambunctious days as children and the things we fought through together as teenagers. I'm an adult now, and you're not far behind. How have things become so twisted? How have things spun so magnificently out of control? You know me better than I know myself. You know everything about me. You know exactly what I've been through. A new thought slams into my head and my heart ceases it's incessant beating. You don't know me now. You've been gone for three years and you have no idea what I've been through. You wouldn't know what to do with me now. I set the phone on the darkly stained table with the realization this I don't know you either. All this time I've been assuming you were the same, unchanged by time. You are not, and neither am I. Once soul mates, we are now merely strangers with a past. The thought is sickening and I clutch my stomach as I feel my heart break in my chest. You were my life line. As long as you knew me, I had something to hold onto. As the rope tying me to existence severs, I tumble into a blackness of uncertainty. If I know not you, and you know not I, then who out there has any clue of who I am. Because I certainly do not.