I knew you by your name once

I knew you by your name once.
I heard you speaking at the corner of a raised platform and I knew you more.
A third person told me stories about you and my knowledge grew.
My curiosity peaked, but you flew on a jet plane.
I still heard stories about you.
My 2-year vacation came to an end and so did the stories.
I knew you by your name again.
I heard you again on the same platform (in the centre with a tweaked accent) and I knew you more.
A fourth person told me stories about you and my knowledge grew again.
He told me you have a storybook where you scribble everyday.
My curiosity grew againYou were “in transit” and I almost saw the jet plane
Still found a piece of you through “We are the stories we tell”
The storybook tells me now that you’ll again be on the raised platform
And I won’t be there.
The third and the fourth person are close but their stories are old now.
These days, I spend more time with the fifth one, Your storybook.

-wrote this as a comment on someone, but fell in love with myself for writing this, so posted here