It is so strange to realize that something so familiar- a mannerism or a memory or a fold of skin- does not belong to only you. Some, perhaps many, people have delighted and taken comfort in these very things. The stairs I have descended for 15 years are the same stairs my brother travels daily. The freckle on your lover's shoulder has been admired by someone else. The most beautiful song, the one you like to listen to as your car creaks and shudders down a desolate road, is adored by thousands of people. The way your mother's eyes smile has been witnessed long before you ever existed. And while this is wonderful and this is true, it is also cruel and it is lonely.
"Where can we go from here?" you asked, but you had been there before.
And that has made the difference.