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Cry into a cup and promise yourself it won’t happen again. Promise yourself this is the last night of self-hatred. Promise yourself tomorrow is a new day, a new start.

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All this time later, you must be drowning in your own loneliness and insecurity because you dared to say, “I miss you.”

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When it was good, it was so good. And that’s the burn. That’s why this leftover bruise is something you keep touching. When he texts, you remember.

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You were putting your own dreams on hold.

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Sometimes, we just need to be sad. Sometimes, we just need to sit in the shit, and feel it. And that’s OK.

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A wise woman once said, “let that shit go.”

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It’s time to move on. The amount of opportunities you pass up by focusing on the past is infinite.

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I choose to forgive you because resentment does nothing positive for my life. I want something big and beautiful. I want happiness and hands that touch me tenderly, not roughly. I want a love worth speaking about.

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Thank you for showing me who you really were. For not being gutsy enough to tell me what you really thought of me, of me and you, of us.

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Don’t let your sorrow show in your love handles and double chins—only feel bad for yourself for a limited amount of time.