they call to tell you she has died and well, you and she had hardly spoken over the decade you’d known each other, but admired each other with a fondness born of the circle in which you both had swirled, mingling as lost young things before growing into the strong adults you had become, though now she is no more and all you can say to your beloved friend who has called to make sure you didn’t find out elsewise, is “we were lucky to have her while we did” because this was a thing she had tried and tried again, in a manner of speaking, and now had perfected, with the end of her existence, this intellectual anxious beautiful being who came into our lives so long ago immediately causing jealousy until one spoke with her and realized that maybe among us all she was the most genuine in those days, from whom we then learned and grew together and grew and birthed new plans amongst ourselves, new lives and bodies and willful, with scars on display not proudly but with honesty we grew and Bex was a catalyst, will always be. will always be missed.

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