Stroll (cont.)

I assume I know once we exchange the exhaled carbon monoxide but in the end, we learned nothing once again. What was there ever behind that now imaginary stranger that you were used to for so long, perhaps it was never ‘love’ but a strong bond. Perhaps it was never anything. You fall and yet you get back up again once you realize it was only a bond. I receive a message: “never regret anything or anyone that made you smile”, I regret yet everything but then again nothing mattered, I liberated. Maybe I believe that everything is regretted but then again, what is there to regret when you do not remember that certain stranger? To me when it comes to strangers, I’ve learned to grasp the “typical” way New York has to offer.

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