Stephanie Georgopulos

The inside jokes have already dissolved into unordered words with no punchline. The gifts have been reduced to objects whose saving grace is their monetary value, no meaning and all function. There are photographs, somewhere, but I__ not the person posed in them anymore and whoever that is sitting next to me, all dressed up in your costume and wearing your mask, well, that__ not you either.

Moving on is not like a birthday, you can__ count down the hours __il it arrives and you can__ mark it on a calendar and you can__ call up your friends to help you celebrate. You can__ plan for it and you can__ conclude it by blowing out a candle. When moving on happens there will be no announcements, no notifications, no congratulations. There will be no parade; only you will know.