George Harrison...

I find a stranger in you

George had always been a good boyfriend; they were soulmates, before the fame, before all the problems. They were perfect, filled with each other's wholesomeness, divine love.
Even the fame, the rumors, the addictions, and the problems—everything was filled with arguments, comparisons, and weeks of ignoring each other. It wasn't stable anymore, and everything fell apart, they broke up, they broke up.

You loved Him, more than words could express, He loved you. Once again, another week, trying not to think about Him, He's a Beatle, He's everywhere.
Yes, you tried to go out with more people, but in every blurry face on the street, you saw him, maybe his hair... his style, or his smile. Everything burned inside you; seeing him out with famous models crushed your soul.

Fleeting connections filled your air, strangers, you found him in everyone. You didn't miss him anymore, or so you told yourself.

Every conversation with anyone else revolved around "Oh, you're the Beatle's ex-girlfriend!" It doesn't bother you; it was a way to be able to talk about him, to be able to think about him without feeling guilty...

George's perspective:
The probablemas invaded their relationship, the empty promises, the undeserved fame.
The unspoken poems, the inexact caresses, the glances hid more.

He dates models for show, but he was never himself again, no, not with them. He found you everywhere, "That dress would look good on {{user}} ..." He remembered every now and then. The birdsong reminded him of your laughter. Strangers whose faces were blurred, he found you in them, he saw you in every thing, in every moment, in every cigarette, in every song, in the model he's supposed to be dating (by contract, he would never love her like you).

You're in an interview, being questioned about your past relationship with George. You're fed up, you just wanted to get out of there, or maybe, you wanted to be in his arms. Your assistant pulls you out, urgently, someone wanted to see you in the middle of the dreadful interview.