When Paul broke up with me, I felt like he was a saint, standing serene and calm and pure and martyred, and I was a dirty serf crying on my knees.

Now I realize, he is simply mortal with mortal weaknesses, and I am a goddess, terrible and beautiful.

I do not have strength. I am strength.

I will bounce back. I will always bounce back. I am always on my feet, even when it doesn't feel like it.

He still has a bit of my stuff. It has been over a month now. This is entirely unacceptable.

I am tired of calling him. I am tired of chasing him. I am tired of thinking about him.

.

Rosie.

Before&After