I said your name and I think you must have misunderstood the notion of my voice because when you turned around you had sunbeams, supernovas, and prisms throwing rainbows across whitewashed walls in your eyes.

The smile I managed to drudge up for you was not unlike the pathetic beam of a dying flashlight, refracted in a jagged-edged mirror so weakly that it barely made a ray, much less hit the opposite wall it was aimed at.

I am sorry you are caught in the net of a disoriented girl, a young thing that disregarded all the words of the wise ones before her (“Be careful what you wish for!”) because she thought that she knew it all, and thought that most of all she knew what she wanted. It is because of this brazen mentality that she threw all her soul into wishing, wishing on shooting stars and 11:11s and wishbones cracked in her favor and any eyelash that she could find. It is because of this wishing that you are tangled into something that you do not deserve to be caught in, left in a downward spiral of a girl who, quite simply, realized too late that what she wished for was the exact opposite of what she truly wanted.

I am truly, wholly apologetic for this—what do they call it?—conflict of interests.

And because I am so deeply contrite, I offer you this piece of advice that I pray you take to heart better than the girl who refused to not wish.

Run.

Run from her (and by her I mean me, but I will never truly admit this to you) and flee from her as if you saw Death standing behind her shoulder.

Your life will be much better, much happier, and that much more blissful because the girl who thought she knew her wishes, but didn’t, is absent from it.