The Four Years

So I'm going about my everyday routine of visiting the college library when all of a sudden, I spot a most unexpected soul. He glides down the stairs in his priestly attire without a single impulsive motion, which used to be one of his distinguishing characteristics once upon a time. He isn't a stranger to me; yet he sure comes across as one. He patiently waits for the crowds of people to pass him by on their way up. The real him would have just rudely barged into them without pausing for a second to reconsider his actions. Who knows where it's all gone? His spontaneity, the hot-headedness and the aggression? They all seem to have disappeared within a span of four years, with the appearance of his dull robe and a meek new demeanor. He catches a glimpse of me as I wave my unopened umbrella at a friend by way of greeting.  I can hardly contain my excitement and nearly trip over in shock. But the memories of pain and heartbreak soon come back to me; if only for a second. I soon recover and conceal my emotions cleverly, with a practice that's four years old. Unable to think objectively, I speed up my pace and run over to my refuge. He soon catches up but says and does nothing. He walks past with an air of dettachment, which surprisingly doesn't hurt anymore. I feel numb and scan my eyes blankly over a newspaper without really reading the printed words. It's been a long, empty and dreadful four years since I set eyes on the man I could have once cut my heart out for; but love no longer.