My Love Life Is Thriving (and also maybe not)

Our love lives are thriving.

but We are the girls

who share secrets about crushes under the cloak of sleepover night,

but are too scared to send the glitter-glued love letters the next day.

Our emotional maturity is profound.

but We are the girls

whose biggest loss has amounted to the death of a guinea pig,

a death from old age nonetheless.

Our physical coordination is exquisite.

but We are the girls

who spasmodically drop what we’re carrying,

trip up the stairs,

and covertly check around to make sure that no one saw (they did).

Our life experiences are innumerable.

but We are the girls

who agonize over essays about adversity,

because the only real adversity we have faced

is getting too attached to a character in Game of Thrones

only to have them killed off in the next chapter.

Our social prowess is staggering.

but We are the girls

who don’t get invited to the cool kids’ parties

because our idea of an alcoholic beverage

is our own bastardization of child-safe butterbeer

filched from a Harry Potter fan site.

 

We are the girls

--naive, quirky, awkward--

who tried life your way

--tinted, bound, masked--

Filtered.

and We are breaking free.

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