The Girl I Used to Love

As I was looking through a bunch of old pictures this morning, I came to a realization that made my body ache and my stomach churn. I realized that I don't even know her anymore.
That statement is true on two different levels:
On the first level, I don't know who she is as a person. I don't know how she spends her time, I don't know where she works, I don't know what books she reads or what kind of foods she eats or what she wants her life to turn into...
Now, all of that may seem like trivial things that should be unimportant to an ex, but all of that is the precursor to second part of not knowing her, which is the part that deeply saddens me. The second part to this is the fact that I don't know any of the things that I used to know about her. I don't know who her friends are anymore, I don't know her favorite song or her favorite movies or her favorite color. So many things have changed that I have no clue anymore who she is. For all intents and purposes, she is a stranger to me now, and that sucks. She was the biggest part of my life for such a long time, and now she is nothing more than a memory. The girl I knew and loved is gone.
The girl I knew loved daisies and the little purple flowers that grow on the side of the road. The girl I knew loved the smell of old books and dreamed of someday owning her own used book store. The girl I knew feared instruments with strings but loved the sound of a guitar being played. The girl I knew got excited when she got a ten dollar bill from a customer at work. The girl I knew loved swings and children and photographs and vintage rings. The girl I knew was filled with an innocence that I envied. The girl I knew was passionate, caring, gentle. The girl I knew was simple, yet complex.
Now, the only thing I know is that the girl I knew is different. The simplicity wore off and the complexity turned to cynicism. The innocence washed away with the passion. There is no girl that I used to love, there is only a memory of her.