I know you. I know you because you were once me, and one day I will be you. Detachment grows as days and months go by. I put myself through agonies, working to deserve the memory of you. You are the image of perfection that I carry with me, to remind me that there is still something ahead. When I am tired, suffering, or afraid, I remember you, and tell myself that if someone like you cannot exist in my life, then I will become you. I will fill that void.
But you don't feel fear, do you? And I've seen you smile at your own agony. When you catch your own reflection on accident, you are never startled by the person that you see. Through the years you will remain, implacable, unhurt, and maybe someday I will meet you. In finding you, I may find myself.
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