stefanie says

It’s a professional hazard that sometimes I find myself having to script out fictional endings to real-life affairs, that I have to write us movie script endings when you or I don’t play the parts the way I think it should go.

I wrote a version with the things I should have said, with lines that I should be saying, but can’t bring myself to. I wrote about a girl with much more common sense and enough brevity to rise above the whole situation, to be able to tell you like it is with a snap of the finger and a toss of the hair and a perfectly witty ending statement, the way someone like Veronica Mars would.

I wrote another version of all the things I wanted to say, but didn’t dare to. I wrote about a girl with nothing to lose, with the boldness but woeful desperation of a Meredith Grey, with words tumbling unstoppable out of her heart and soul.

But all I have is something that falls in between those two, or maybe not even close to either. And sometimes I wonder whether the version of you in my head - the real you - has been mixed up with all the other movie-script versions I’ve made up, and in some moments of clarity, I realise maybe those versions are the ones I’ve let myself be captivated by in the first place.