Have you ever read a book and known how it ended because you've read it before? You sometimes wonder if you should finish it but know that it won't ever end a different way so why disappoint yourself? I had a dream about you the other night and I can't say that I was happy to see you. You butted into my real life and then in my dream after. You showed up as unwelcome as you are now. I get angry sometimes thinking of how you treated me, but just like a book in a library, I put you back on the shelf to be read by another because maybe someone else would like to read that book instead of me. Maybe someone else likes that book instead of me. I already knew the ending, and it wasn't a happy one. Some books are meant for some people-meant to be read until the end. You were a few chapters behind where I am today. I am also a book. And as I began another chapter after placing your book back, you fell back between the chapters as something that happened instead of something that stayed. You won't be written into my final chapter-you won't even find your name. Because I'm constantly being rewritten, and you didn't make the final draft.
