"Sassy" helped me get past many a breakup. But while I've grown up, 49-year-old Jane Pratt has not.
I did my best to try to love xoJane with the same do-or-die love that came from my Sassy days, but the problem is, I'm not 15; I don't believe in do-or-die love anymore. It was no longer entertaining to read these "It Happened To Me" pieces, which now seem to be more for getting page-views than for the legitimate desire to relate to her readers. It had become old to see photos of texts from Michael Stipe as if Pratt needed to verify that she and he are still friends. Yes, we know, Jane, you tell us all the time. (Am I the only one who remembers her dancing in that daisy dress in REM's "Shiny Happy People" video?)
I haven't read Sassy in years. I just can't bring myself to go through that box at my parents' house. I don't want to know that maybe I have grown up, that a part of me has reached the adult part of my life I swore I'd stave off as long as I could like a plague. I don't want to have my suspicions confirmed.
I'm still a Sassy girl. Jane Pratt is and will always be someone whom I'll admire greatly, but since her "emotional age" is at 15 and mine is older (although probably not by much), I just don't think we can be friends anymore. Even the most do-or-die loves are sometimes not meant to last, and that's probably the best thing about them. It forces you to savor them in the present and indulge in nostalgia when they're behind you. They made you who you are, even if you don't need them anymore.