I’ve changed since that night. There’s a separation – a severance – between the me before and the me after.
Before Me loved celebrity gossip – break-ups, breakdowns, photos of actresses at the beach, dimpled thighs like sausage skins stuffed full of porridge. I loved talent shows, trolling no-talent names on Twitter or girls I went to school, the ones with flat chests and acne and B.O. The ones I used to despise for not being attractive enough, popular enough – for not being me.
After Me looks the same, wears her hair the same, watches the same shows. But now I stare at the screen, unseeing, the lights and songs, the baiting and criticism no longer make me laugh, no longer has me reaching to add to the verbal slurry – #uglybitch.
Now all I see are the same things, reflected back from every surface, hidden in every TV programme …
The car. Me. Him.
There is nothing else. There will never be anything else.
Written for Stephanie at Word Adventure’s #tuesdayuseitinasentence. Today’s word is SEVERANCE. See here to join in and to read the other tales.