Today,
you are Bing,
and I am Abi.
You break your hand,
as you rage at reality,
screaming at your screen,
as you see what has become of me.
You insist,
that my current existence is an affront to your sensibilities,
because…
well…
because…
You found me,
so fresh and free,
untouched by undesirable ambition,
and now,
(I can literally hear you screaming and swearing from here),
and now,
I am nothing like the girl you remembered.
You hold a ghost to your chest,
remembering the way we were,
the way we could have been,
unable to connect with the concept of change,
growth,
girls becoming women,
ghosts finding their way back to their bodies,
skipping merrily into your worst nightmares.
Wake up,
darling,
there is another day ahead,
neither of us is dead,
you know.
The world doesn’t end,
because I stopped being the girl you fell in love with,
years after you sawed her heart in half,
(It’s interesting that you always leave that part out, but I digress).
The woman I discovered,
still finds your dramatic diatribes delightful,
so perhaps we could find a way to fall in love,
again,
if the stars align.
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