He doesn't remember me. I used to be someone who was close to him. At least I thought I was close to him. He'd look at me as if I were a friend. He'd look at me as if I were a stranger but what exactly was in those eyes? In those sparkly eyes, was that affection or sympathy or simply pity.
Seeing him walking down the street were the only happy moments of my life. Doesn't he remember he saved me once and every day since from all my misery. Well, the truth is I don't remember him either.
Seeing him walking down the street were the only happy moments of my life. Doesn't he remember he saved me once and every day since from all my misery. Well, the truth is I don't remember him either.
