I'm in the mood today to scream and shout and yell untill I have no voice.
And then go on a healing sabbatical to Iceland.
"Just when you think everything is ok, the rug gets pulled out from under your feet."
"It's a cruel form of abuse, really."
I'm trying not to let it bother me, I'm trying not to cry but the truth is that I know ten years from now I'll still be damaged by this.
Where is the justice in that?
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