I was sitting by the window with a latte, not thinking about anything in particular, just enjoying the moment. At the next table, a man in his forties was talking to a woman with tired eyes. And then he said: “You know, one day I woke up and realized I don’t know who you are anymore. It’s like you became someone else and I missed the moment it happened.”

That line hit me hard. Because haven’t we all felt that, at least once? When someone close suddenly feels like a stranger?

We get so caught up in life — in routines, phones, to-do lists — that we stop really seeing each other. We assume we know the people around us, so we stop asking, we stop noticing the small shifts. But people change. And if we’re not paying attention, we drift.

That evening made me reflect: who have I overlooked? Who grew distant not because they changed, but because I stopped listening?

Since then, I’ve tried to be more present. To ask questions that matter, not just “how was your day?” but “what did you feel today?” Because distance begins with small silences. And closeness begins there, too.

Have you ever felt that? When someone who used to be close… suddenly feels like a stranger?