You were my best friend, back when that word was more than a hashtag. We had a secret world together. You were hilarious, and smart, and beautiful in a way I knew was weird to talk about. I remember looking into your eyes and trying to figure out what made them different from mine. I liked that we were different. I was Bubbles and you were Buttercup. ...I told you everything. That came in handy for you.

You found me on Myspace in 2007 and reached out, and apologised. I didn't think you meant it. But I felt sorry for you. "Anorexic Candy". You looked beautiful. I could tell that you'd been through the suffering I wanted for you. I had no idea that the girl who looked so much like me hated herself as much as I hated myself. You left me to be friends with skinny, popular girls- but you really wanted to leave yourself, didn't you? You just wanted to look at them when you thought of yourself.

I'm "over" everything that happened when I was 10. Aren't you?