Two things came from that conversation.

One.
It made me realize I was being stubborn
and precious.
I was being little,
not a friend.

Two.
You became more real, more anchored,
and, in being so, something was lost.
Some mystery,
allure.
You became more solid and less a thing of my imagination.

Part of me misses the fantasy,
but, maybe this is the better way.
Healthier.
Like putting the safety back on.

I still don’t know which I like better.