A girl of her own
" Girls don't heal. We might look like we are all better, but if you look closely, we are covered in concealer." Yes, we cry over friends who changed, and yet we won't take them back. The memories of all the people we once loved keep us awake and still, we paint our lips in Fuschia pink all the time. We promise ourselves not to make the same mistake thrice (twice is our default setting) and somehow we circle back to wet pillows and eye bags in 5 weeks. We believe in second chances and we believe in people limiting themselves to second chances only. We fall in love with the boy on the subway because he uses a bookmark like us, or rolls his sleeves up when he is trying to be romantic. We are tempted to live our lives in the sequels of our favorite rom-coms but can never be launchpad-ready for a dramatic breakup. We protect, we hold, we comfort and we envelop the people who mean everything to us. No one can ever know that we are still healing from the things we can'
