A STRANGER IN MY HOUSE

 A STRANGER IN MY HOUSE

Sometimes, it feels like there's a magnetic field pulling us toward each other, so strong, it makes us feel like teenagers falling in love for the first time. In those moments, it’s like waking up to a new day, one filled with sunlight after weeks of stormy rain.

But the strange thing is, once we get home, that magnetic pull seems to reverse. Suddenly, we’re like a cat and a dog, constantly at odds. It’s as if the warmth disappears and we become distant, disconnected — strangers under the same roof.

Still, something keeps holding us. That invisible force fights the drift between us, like gravity refusing to let go, always trying to keep us grounded. And yet, we drift. Like rushing water sweeping us away, the current feels too powerful to resist. I keep asking myself: How did we get here? Why are we drifting so fast? What changed?

I miss the days when life was simple, when we were happy just being together, doing what we loved. The laughter, the plans, the dreams — they all felt so real back then.

What surprises me most is that he proposed… or that she said yes. We chose each other. We moved in together. We promised to build something beautiful. But now, we live like strangers, passing each other in silence. It’s like we’re two pieces of the wrong puzzle — close, but never fitting quite right.

What happened to us?

I always thought that when two people love each other, things would get easier with time. That the longer they stayed together, the better they'd understand one another. But now, I wonder: Was love ever enough? Or did we lose ourselves somewhere between the magnetic pull… and the silence?

We have come to the end of The Stranger in my house.