It was self-destructive but I did it anyway. Every day. No matter how much I cleansed, toned, moisturised, ran, drank water and took deep breaths, I couldn’t help but to check up on you and see how you were doing. Even if that was through your carefully curated Twitter profile. I knew in the back of my mind that people only ever put their ‘best bits’ out there, making it seem like their lives are complete. But I couldn’t help but convince myself that this was reality, and getting rid of me was like getting rid of annoying lint from your clothes; forgotten about in 10 seconds. I analysed the width of your smile with her, are you happier now? Did it look like you were still eating enough? How are your driving lessons going?? I tried desperately to find a clue that you were missing me, but I couldn’t find one anywhere. How?? I thought. Surely, if I feel like this, you must feel something?? Surely, I can’t just be gone. Just like that? But I was.
