If one day

A friend once asked me, if one day you met someone who looked exactly like her, would you fall in love with her?
Perhaps I would. After all, that inexplicable sense of familiarity can so easily be mistaken for love.
Or perhaps I wouldn’t. No matter how much she resembled her, she would not be her, because we would share no memories.
To look at someone while thinking of another—surely that is something no one could accept.
Love, it seems, is gradually drifting away from those of us born in the eighties. Blind dates, marriage, work—those things that once felt so distant now suddenly appear sharply defined overnight.
There is little time left for us to reminisce; people ought to be more practical.
If one day I met someone who looked exactly like her, I think I would simply smile and walk on.