You don’t actually know someone until the gloves have come off and you get the unfiltered version. When you aren’t impressed anymore and you’ve given some of those bad feelings back, sit back and listen to who the person you felt safe loving, really is.
Brace yourself, though. It’s gonna sting a little when you realize how wrong you were and have to face how much time you’ve wasted crying over a fictional character.
I wear my heart on my sleeve, so it gets dented and dinged a little more than I’d like. I wouldn’t have it any other way because I’m not interested in anything less than 100%.
However…. I can be equally as poisonous as I am sweet ,when threatened. I’m always surprised anyone would bother, considering I can blast the nitty gritty details out for a few thousand friends & strangers to read over their coffee every morning.
Think before you shake that hive. It’s much safer to respectfully keep your distance. At the very least, consider my body count before you come for me.
That asshole from Puerto Rico still can’t lie to strange women, I’m pretty sure Nathan is in a halfway house somewhere and the rest of the proverbial bodies have composted nicely into manure for my next garden.
I make the best out of a bad situation. I publish my journal on the internet, for fuck’s sake; and if you’ve just started reading, let me be the first to admit that I don’t pull punches, sugar coat or pacify anyone’s hurt feelings. Least of all, those who’ve hurt me indiscriminately.
I used to burn them at the cross, and now they don’t upset me, because they cease to exist. I don’t have time for that.
I’m fiercely protective of my children and my friends. I offer to help strangers in the grocery store and stop at every lemonade stand. I donate time, money, food, anything I have that I can share. I’m also outspoken, and have really learned how to say the hard things lately.
But I don’t take any shit, any more, from anyone. Period.