She was falling apart at the seams. She knew it. How could anybody deny something so obvious? But just because she knew it, didn’t mean she had the energy to do anything about it.

Retreating into herself felt like a fine enough answer to her problems. It may not have been enough for her friends or family, but they didn’t have to live in her tangled web like she did. They didn’t get a say.

She’d always had a hard time leaving well enough alone. When things were good, they could be better. When they were better, they had potential to be the best. But she was now beginning to understand, being just good is sometimes the best option. There’s no need to pull at a loose thread when the others are doing quite fine keeping the sweater together.

But she couldn’t help herself. She pulled. And that led to another loose thread. She pulled again. She disassembled herself, piece by piece, until she couldn’t recognize the girl who’d taken the place of her reflection.

The worst part of the whole unraveling was that it wasn’t about her. She wasn’t at the epicenter of her own self-destruction. She couldn’t even show herself enough self-respect to make her breakdown about her. It was him. It was all him. Just like it always had been.


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