subject: your emails

Your emails.
I read them.
They were clogging my inbox.
I feel guilty, as though I read something of someones that I shouldn't have.

How can it be that I was you, just years ago? You complained, you whined, as young girls often do, crying out for attention in the worst of ways. You're everything that annoys me. The words are not even mine. I don't remember them. And yet, I know them. They are the words of everyone else.

Cuz.
Lol.
Kewl.
Ur.
Like.

They're not even words. They were your attempts to fit in. To be, to sound, like everyone else. And for that, poor darling, I'll never know who you really were. Years later, I'm all I know of you. I cannot say who your real friends were. I cannot say how you dressed, what you liked, how you talked. You've left me with words. The words of everyone else.

I'm disappointed in you, poor darling. I wish I could say you were better than this. But you where just like everyone else, weren't you? Struggling to fit in. Don't bother, dear child, for I know you. It never happens. But you'll find yourself soon enough.

-You