I met John today, and he seemed different.

He was waiting for me at the station, checking his phone. When he saw me, he smiled, and at first, I was happy to see him. I shook his hand, it was too warm. Hot even.

John looked tired. Must be his work. He always sounded unhappy when he was telling me about it; I thought that was strange. The energy wasn't right. I've known John for over fifteen years, if not more. While we were together, we traveled halfway across the world. He never looked tired, not like this. John was a man who exhausted himself, slept twelve hours, and woke up right as rain. He had life behind his eyes. I had life behind my eyes when I was with him.

Even after we separated, we still met every other week, and he never changed. For over a decade, he never changed.

Now he feels off, and I can't explain how. I can't prove it or even understand it, but I know what my heart is telling me, and my heart doesn't recognize the man in my memories. He's not actually in front of me, or I in front of him. And it hurts. It frightens me.

We used to be tight, ridiculously so--we got along almost without speaking, just a silent understanding and intuitive communication. Now I never know what he's going to say; he sets up jokes and I just don't understand until he explains them, and I can't find it in myself to set up any jokes at all. The vibe isn't there.

We went to a restaurant he said I'd love. I let him order for me like he used to do in the before days, and even looking at the plate they brought out made me sick. It all felt so fake. Hollow. I don't think it was me, either. I tried so hard to pretend, to put on a happy face, to force things to be like how they used to be. I asked myself, maybe he's having an off day? And my heart answered: no. He is everything I remember. He scratches his chin when he's lying and takes deep breaths when he's thinking, he tells jokes you can't tell are jokes, and then winks when you stare at him dumbfounded. But there was no soul, no resonance.

My husband of seven years, ex of three, and best friend of fifteen is a complete stranger. I feel as if I've only met him a few hours ago. He means nothing to me.

I'm scared.

He was my last chance. His was the only name left in my contacts list; now it's another one to cross out when I get home. I've never felt so lost. It's as if I woke up one day, and everyone I knew had become Other. All my friends became strangers, all my family became acquaintances, and I look at strangers with doubt, like I'm expecting them to greet me as if they've known me since I was a child. And the worst is, I remember everything we've gone through together, all the memories are there, clear as day, but their significance isn't. It feels artificial. It feels like something is missing.

These are people I owe so much to... could it be?

Could they all have changed so much? Could they have been replaced by impostors?

Is it everyone else?

Or...?