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A STRANGER IN MY HOUSE.

 A Stranger in My House

We would speak for hours on the phone,  reluctant to say goodbye. Neither of us wanted to be the first to hang up, like letting go would somehow end the magic between us. Just before sleep claimed us, one of us would call back, softly saying, "I just wanted to hear your voice before I fell asleep." And so the cycle continued—two hearts tethered by a conversation that never truly ended.

Back then, love felt like a promise. Every word we spoke built a world just for us. We made plans, dreamt aloud, and created a rhythm only we understood. Laughter, secrets, even the silences—we shared it all. You knew my favorite song, the way I liked my coffee, and the way my voice cracked when I was tired.

But now, the silence in this house is deafening.

You walk past me, and your eyes no longer search for mine. We sit at the same table, but our worlds no longer meet. You sleep next to me, but your back feels like a wall between us. I still remember the way you used to say "I love you" like it was the most natural thing. Now, the words are gone—like they never belonged here in the first place.

There is a stranger in my house.
He wears your smile.
He walks with your footsteps.
But his heart… his heart is somewhere else.

And I’m still here, holding onto the echo of who you used to be.


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