Someone once meant the world to me. Years later, I gave them a second chance. All it meant, though, was a second chance for heartache. But Hemingway was right - we can be strong at the broken places.
It took years to learn my lesson, but during those years I found that I had slowly mended. Unlike the first time, this second time around has not broken me. I've found my strength at last.
I will no longer look back on what might have been, but forward - towards the rest of my story. May it be a wondrous one.
It's finally time to fly.
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