by Ana Claire
Artwork Alexa Gaffaney
You have become dependent on her companionship, and I’m concerned. She stays with you through your loneliest and most desperate times. She helps you make up your mind and prioritize. She tells you the intensity of your pain is less real than it feels, offering an alluring and mostly inevitable escape. She is even your designated driver.
These things I understand; I don’t begrudge you your foolishness.
But I must warn you.
You act as though she is loyal – she is not. Least of all to you! You won’t believe me, but she has been taking things from you.
Remember when you did that extraordinarily you-ish thing in a very success-like manner? You didn’t realize, but you ceded some of the extraordinary and some of the you-ish to her, because your involving her incurs a hidden fee for the soul.
Why do you love the Future so much when you’ve never met her?
Rumor has it she’s always late. She feeds off of your bland conversation about her, off of the looping and repetition and speculation and insecurity. She feels left out when you listen to the sound of your fingers on your lover’s face, or when you do something because it is a beautiful thing to do.
You don’t love the Future as much as you think you do. Because when you really love someone, you will be able to list the reasons why – you will take great pleasure in doing so. And when you talk to me about her, you won’t glance away to nervously check that you got the tired details about her right.