Oh how I wish I could walk
with the aura of my namesake.

That I would never have doubts.
That my self-confidence would never waver.
That I would have any confidence whatsoever.
That I would have a sassy remark about everything.
That I would always have a comeback prepared.
That I would never be afraid to use it.
That I would always have a funny story to tell.
That I could always be there for everyone.
That everyone would care.
That I would never feel “dead inside”.

But, alas,
I am a person.
I am not a wish-fullfilment fantasy.
I will never grow into her,
because despite my feel-good delusions,
I am not her.
And she will never be me.