I don't know you

Once I thought I knew you, you had become an absolute stranger to me.

The image of you that I kept in my mind was invalid the moment it was created. Yet I kept it and tried to live a life with it. You I forgot about. Except for som joyful moments when you managed to shine through, you were hidden behind that image. An image that somehow started to fabricate a life of it's own. Weaving a story that made it look alive. That made it plausible enough for me to let it pass as you. Although, all the time I really knew: I don't know you. I never have. I never will. And as soon as I stop pretending we can meet again. What's holding me?

Once you think you know someone, you've really lost that knowing.