What do I do with it?

some conversations left unfinished,

times we somewhat relished

none are ever going to come back.

They won't ever be the same. ever.

I wonder if it is us that has changed?

Or has time created this distance?

Tracks that touched each other, 

then running parallel, now drifting apart.

It seems like you never look back,

or do you look when I turn away?

It feels strange to ask you this now,

You are stranger than a stranger somehow.

Yes, we will find more people around us,

But there was a part of me that you have taken,

And a part of you that you have left.

What do I do with it?