I know this is the end.
I am saying this to will the end to come over me.
To forget you.
To will myself to go back in time before I saw you.
To have been looking the other way in that moment when you walked in.
To be innocent of you again.
To be free again.
To have been filled with a cloud of indifference from the start, so that now I would be someone else.
Something else.
Somewhere else.
Some stranger.
Oh, what I wouldn’t give to be a stranger!
To be a visitor.
I could’ve begun with you, and added this whole world to which I would be a stranger.
But, alas, one look at you and I missed that chance.
So here I am, resetting, restarting.
Backing up all the way, before the crush.
What an arduous task this re-collection is…
