Three Years
Too much has changed me. For the last half of this year I was struggling with the fact that I didn’t recognize the girl in the pictures I took of myself. It’s me…why doesn’t it feel like it? There is a strange all-encompassing energy that is now called the three years that went by. Who I was before covid and who I am now…well. It feels like this version of me brutally murdered the other one. I can say it was in order to survive, to keep my head above water for just a little longer. But the bitter taste of the mourning that comes with the death of your old self…that leaves an aftertaste that seems impossible to erase. I broke up with someone that broke my sense of self for three years. I started preparing to become the woman I always wanted to be. Unapologetically me. With that came the confidence of coming out to the people that mattered, if the rest hadn’t already put two and two together. I met a girl directly after that wave that I thought was safety but was really the tide being pulled out. So I braced myself, because I knew I was falling, and knowing who I was, as well as knowing who she was. I knew it wasn’t going to end well. All of her friends were the same except for the one guy who I thought saw me as someone who wasn’t vain. All for it to end up with me drowning and them floating away. Just for me to end up drowning the one I always truly loved. He was here all along.
S.