It happened. You said you’d never start, but you did. You’d heard all the horror stories, seen all the pain and suffering it caused people you knew, and promptly ignored all of it. You’re better, stronger, untouchable. Just because it happened them doesn’t mean it will happen to you. You’re strong-willed, you can control it before it controls you.
That’s right: you fell in love.
You got used to life with that person. You let them change your routine, your clothes, your… laundry detergent? (I don’t know what grown-up relationships look like). But, as often happens, it ended. So you endured the awkward horribleness that is the break-up conversation, with all the “It’s not you, it’s me” and the “I hope we can still be friends,” and the “I think you’re sister is prettier than you, what’s her story?”, and all the other old clichés. And after that mind-bendingly uncomfortable…
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