My life is a dissappointing, incredible, half-broken, brand-new, complete and utter mess... and it's beautiful. After disillusionment into believing my less-than-perfect, wholly disfunctional relationship with Matt was going to last forever, I finally--reluctantly--gave up. But this wasn't really a giving up; it was a letting go. Letting go of a relationship that died eight months ago: A relationship that died long before it had a chance to grow.
And I am finally happy. Finally really actually happy.
And I, like a horrible cliche, am finding myself.
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