It came on me from the side, rather than a frontal assault and that was fine, but it almost missed me. I’m glad it didn’t.
I had to be honest with myself. I didn’t trust men. I didn’t trust any men. I didn’t trust my friends, I didn’t trust the men I passed on the street. I was done.
What I loved most of all were the fucking douchbag people who told me he was coming and that I hadn’t met the right one yet.
That was psychobabble bullshit you told people to make them feel better and to justify your position as a ‘good friend.’
I didn’t give a shit anymore if I was single forever. My hand was more than enough and I didn’t have to worry about some guy coming everywhere and wondering each month if I was pregnant.
I was doing everything for myself from now on.
No man was EVER going to change my opinion on that.
I was through.
I just hoped that I woke up feeling better than how I knew I would go to sleep.