Dear younger self,
Would you believe me if I told you one of your closet friends got married and you weren't at the wedding.
That you were not a bridesmaid. Or at the bridal shower or even a seated guest.
You weren't even invited.
But that was her loss, as she once again chose herself.
Three years ago she stopped being the person she was, but perhaps this was who she always was.
A pandemic hit and she chose herself over everyone else. Choosing politics over science. Refusing to do simple tasks such as staying at home or wearing a mask.
And by living a normal life in an abnormal world, as your roommate, she put yours and everyone you cared about lives' at risk.
So yeah. Of course, when your lease ran out, you chose yourself and moved out.
And nothing was every the same after that.
Your mailbox never received a card addressed for April and you watched a couple videos over snapchat of her cutting the cake.
It was better this way-to not have the option. Because the decision between going and not going would've been too mentally splitting: to want to support the girl she once was, and knowing you can never see her the same through all your fear, pain, and rage.
I know she thought about me as she sent out invitation cards and I know it evoked some sort of emotional reaction within her. And that is enough satisfaction for me, whatever that emotion may be.

Dear younger self,
Would you believe me
because I don't even believe it myself.