Feel Like A Man
1/1
Dear Diary,
Today I saw her again. Yes, her. Frankie Ashworth, former love of my life and shadow of her past self.
Ugh. I sound like a whiny teenager and I’m 25 years old. I was a whiny teenager when I met her. 19 year olds think they can take on the world, don’t they. But I wasn’t supposed to know what would happen.
Gavin Johnson. He made it look like I cheated on her, when he especially knew that I wouldn’t, that I couldn’t do that to anyone, let alone her. She knew that as well. But she’d rather have been with the cool, older guy than the nervous kid, or at least that what it looked like to me. After I got over her, I hated her so much. Just mentioning either name was enough to make me hit something.
And then I saw her for the first time in 3 years. She had a ring on, Johnson’s arm around her waist. I expected her to look happy, or at least pretend not to recognize me. She was a lot thinner than what she used to be and had a small frown on her face. This wasn’t the Frankie I knew. She was moaning in pain as he carried her to the hospital. As he passed, he gave me the smuggest smirk I ever saw.
I didn’t see her again until today. And I wish I hadn’t. I was passing the Everly Estate, when I saw the paramedics carrying a covered stretcher out. I looked around and saw him being led away by police officers. I put two and two together. 3 years ago, it was him who had hurt her. And today, he had pushed her to the limit. Her body couldn’t take anymore.
I wanted to scream, shout and swear. I should’ve realised that day when he was carrying her to the hospital. That smirk wasn’t saying “I’m her knight in shining armour and you’re not”. It was saying “Look, I’ve hurt her-and you can’t do anything about it.” I should’ve asked him “Do you feel like a man when you push her around?”
Obviously he did. Rest in peace, Francesca.
-M
Today I saw her again. Yes, her. Frankie Ashworth, former love of my life and shadow of her past self.
Ugh. I sound like a whiny teenager and I’m 25 years old. I was a whiny teenager when I met her. 19 year olds think they can take on the world, don’t they. But I wasn’t supposed to know what would happen.
Gavin Johnson. He made it look like I cheated on her, when he especially knew that I wouldn’t, that I couldn’t do that to anyone, let alone her. She knew that as well. But she’d rather have been with the cool, older guy than the nervous kid, or at least that what it looked like to me. After I got over her, I hated her so much. Just mentioning either name was enough to make me hit something.
And then I saw her for the first time in 3 years. She had a ring on, Johnson’s arm around her waist. I expected her to look happy, or at least pretend not to recognize me. She was a lot thinner than what she used to be and had a small frown on her face. This wasn’t the Frankie I knew. She was moaning in pain as he carried her to the hospital. As he passed, he gave me the smuggest smirk I ever saw.
I didn’t see her again until today. And I wish I hadn’t. I was passing the Everly Estate, when I saw the paramedics carrying a covered stretcher out. I looked around and saw him being led away by police officers. I put two and two together. 3 years ago, it was him who had hurt her. And today, he had pushed her to the limit. Her body couldn’t take anymore.
I wanted to scream, shout and swear. I should’ve realised that day when he was carrying her to the hospital. That smirk wasn’t saying “I’m her knight in shining armour and you’re not”. It was saying “Look, I’ve hurt her-and you can’t do anything about it.” I should’ve asked him “Do you feel like a man when you push her around?”
Obviously he did. Rest in peace, Francesca.
-M
♠ ♠ ♠
Lyric from Face Down by Red Jumpsuit Apparatus.