It’s late spring 2024, and I’m sitting across from myself, the version of me who was shattered. A conversation I’ve been avoiding for too long. The weight of the past presses against my chest like a stone, but the words can’t be kept inside anymore. We sit in silence for a moment, both of us knowing exactly what needs to be said.
"Miss Z," I finally begin, "she never really left, did she?"
The other me looks away, a tightness in the jaw, the same tightness I’ve felt for years. "No. She didn’t. Her absence was always louder than her presence. Even when she was gone, the weight of her baggage was still there. Her arrogance... selfishness." My voice catches, remembering how her lingering shadow poisoned everything between me and Miss L. "And Miss L... she couldn’t stand it. Sixteen years of love, friendship—drowned out by ego, pride, and... the inability to forgive."
I shake my head. "We never really mourned Miss L, did we? We never gave ourselves the chance to grieve. We just kept pretending that we...