Has it only been five years?

That's how long it took to forget who I was.

To become someone I don't recognize when I look in the mirror.

To wonder what happened to the self-I-loved most of the time. Hated-some-of-the-time. But understood, all of the time.

This new person who looks down at me, is strange.

And hollow.

And mired in some sort of residual unhappiness.

This new person is tired. And overwhelmed and generally incapable.

She's scared.

And insecure.

And honestly, I don't like her very much.

Has it only been five years?

That's how long it took to undo a lifetime of becoming me.