F(ull)abulo(f)us(hit)

Today I ignored you. Today I was you from last Saturday. I wasn’t that busy, but I was silent. And I really hope it hurt your feelings. And I hate that because, A- it probably didn’t, B- you’re you, and historical evidence shows you probably don’t, and C-I’m not the type to purposefully try and inflict hurt on people, but, you hurt me first.

And I’m pretty sure you know you did, like accidentally stepping on a slug you hadn’t known was there, just slugging along, slowly making its way from somewhere to somewhere else when out of nowhere it’s just a nasty, slimy sack of slug, all its inside contents to its sides and on the bottom of your shoe.

You stepped on me. It doesn’t hurt any less to know it was an accident, or that you feel horrible about it after.

It can’t hurt anymore to the small helpless creature that now has its insides on its outsides, just a small, empty casing that used to house a little life.

It doesn’t hurt any less to know you didn’t step on me on purpose.