A Most Familiar Stranger

He sat next to me for a moment today when he came by to pick up the kids for Father's Day.  It was a surreal moment.  So ordinary.  Just sitting next to each other, watching our kids happily chase their puppy through the sunlit backyard.

Not too long ago, I could've told you everything about him.  His goals, hopes, dreams, fears, what he ate for lunch and what he was doing Friday night.  I knew his opinion on art, music, politics, religion.  I could tell by his footsteps on the stairs if he was having a good day or a bad day.  I knew he was thinking about cracking a joke before it happened because of the ever so slight twinkle in his eye.  I could finish his sentence and predict his next move.  I knew his order at any restaurant without so much as a second thought.  We slept together, ate together, planned together and lived together in a beautiful partnership.  I knew his soul and he, in turn, knew mine.

On the surface, he looked the same today.  It was almost scary.  I saw him and wanted to wrap him in my arms and laugh about the silly things we used to tease each other about.  But he wasn't him.  He's not the man I knew.  You see, I don't know his goals, hopes, dreams or fears anymore.  I don't understand his choices.  I don't know what he likes, what he believes, where he will be in five years, or even where he will be tomorrow.  I don't know who he sleeps with, eats with, plans with or lives with.  I don't know anything about him.  Nothing more than skin deep.  He looks like the man with whom my soul communed, but I don't recognize him at all.

He is the most familiar stranger I have ever known.