When did it happen? This change from a youthful, glowing, firm alabaster sheath to a dull, wrinkle-laden, thick looking hide?
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Why are you stabbing me in the back (so to speak) with all of this aging? I thought we were friends.
What happened to the pact we made when we were 15? That we would never let the other down . . . never be tacky or leathery?
I’ve kept up my end of the bargain — giving you luxurious moisturizers, keeping you out of the sun, protecting you from those UV rays you’re always so terrified of.
I gave you my all.
Crow’s feet. Frown lines. Smile lines. Open pores. Dry patches.
You aren’t nice.
If this were any other friendship, I’d end it, but — yeah, well. . . I think we both understand why that can’t happen here.
Could you just quit with the aging? Stop all of it. Stop making me look tired when I’m not. Stop creating these scaly patches under my (for old people) make-up. Stop creating grooves in my forehead — those “fine lines” that keep getting deeper and deeper and deeper. It’s embarrassing.
C’mon — we’ve been through too much to see it all go down hill like this. Too much.
Linked up with . . .
(btw, this was another DROID camera phone photo . . . they really should sponsor me for all the love I’m giving them!)