The Rookie Card

I take out her well worn rookie card. I prepare to add to my ever increasing knowledge of her stats. Her name, age, size, hair color, eye color, occupation or lack thereof are all listed there. The facts of her children and previous marriage detailed upon it. The name that she calls him in a giggling secret sex manner embossed on the front. I rub the edge of the card; the texture penetrates my skin cutting me over and over. I am bewildered as to how I became this girl. The girl that hears of his brilliant new love. I never wanted to be this girl. I can't be this girl. I stare at him across the table. Is he innocently vicious or does he want to punish me for some unknown sin? His words slice at my heart. He speaks of a day when I would be friends with her. The idea of meeting her revolts me. I reach across the table, placing her card in his hands. The stats on my card are far more impressive.