That is so not me. And I refuse to feel guilty about it any more. I was never the cute, bubbly chick. I've always worn my heart on my sleeve.
I've survived sexual assault. I've survived abusive relationships. I've survived mental illness, which is a so far so good thing. One of these days it may best me. For now I'm getting along.
Some girls always smile even when their heart is broken. I get devastated to the core. Which is why I don't open my heart any more.
And that is my fucking prerogative.
