If You Want To Know The World,

I Was Not Rescued By A Prince; I Was The Administrator Of My Own Rescue.

Everything Really Is Going To Be Okay. (and If Not Okay, Then At Least Comic.)

I Have Far More Enthusiasm In Life Than I Have Actual Energy. In My Excitement, I Routinely Take On More That I Can Physically Or Emotionally Handle, Which Causes Me To Break Down In Quite Predictable Displays Of Dramatic Exhaustion. You Will Be The One Burdened With The Job Of Mopping Me Up Every Time I've Overextended Myself And Then Fallen Apart. This Will Be Unbelievably Tedious. I Apologize In Advance.

There Is A Level Of Grief So Deep That It Stops Resembling Grief At All. The Pain Becomes So Severe That The Body Can No Longer Feel It. The Grief Cauterizes Itself, Scars Over, Prevents Inflated Feeling. Such Numbness Is A Kind Of Mercy.

Problem Is, You Can’t Accept That His Relationship Had A Real Short Shelf Life. You’re Like A Dog At The Dump, Baby – You’re Just Lickin’ At The Empty Tin Can, Trying To Get More Nutrition Out Of It. And If You’re Not Careful, That Can’s Gonna Get Stuck On Your Snout Forever And Make Your Life Miserable. So Drop It.” “but I Love Him.” “so Love Him.” “but I Miss Him.” “so Miss Him. Send Him Some Love And Light Every Time You Think About Him, Then Drop It.