That's it. That's it.

I finally said the words.

Or typed them, really.

No more, no more.

That carpenter boy, he is done. Fini. Over.

I am over.

I am over him.

I feel sick, but I know it is better in the long run.

I feel sick, I feel sick.

No more, no more.

No.

More.

~

I will probably see G in January.

What will I feel?

Anger, still?

Sadness?

Sickness?

Will I cry?

I must scout a route to a safe crying place before I have any chance of seeing him.

~

I am reading a book at the moment, a well researched retelling of Merlin's tale, from the point of view of one of the fey.

In it, she has her heart broken entirely, and so she decides to live heartless from then on.

She sacrifices her heart to the river, and from then on lives without feeling.

I often wish I could do that.

I would certainly cry less.

.

Rosie.

Before&After