I moved away and you didn't write. I wrote and you didn't write back. You wrote a letter criticizing me for being stupid, and you were right but I couldn't think how to apologize. You thought "contemplating your navel" meant picking your nose, literally. I grew up faster than you. One day I realized I hated the way you walked. You got obsessed with movie actors. You started dating my boyfriend. You went on a diet and I watched you peeling lettuce leaves off in strips and saw we were fundamentally different. You told stories about me and embellished them to make them more interesting, which is also known as lying. You told me I was ruining my life but didn't seem to have any suggestions about how to stop. You gave my friend an STD and denied it to him and confessed it to me. You grew up faster than I did. You didn't invite me to your party. You told me it wasn't possible to love me. You said it was too far for you to come and visit me, and I should visit you instead. I chose the person who didn't ask me to choose. You said I should forget you. You hung up on me. I wasn't your ideal. You had children with a man you professed to hate. I had a six hour layover in your airport and you had a date and didn't show. You said once I was gone you probably wouldn't even miss me. You rubbed my forearm and called me baby names. Once I wasn't there and you didn't even notice. I couldn't let it go, so I let you go instead.