Love sucks sometimes. You're mourning an illusion, something that was presented and not real. You trusted and got hurt. You know I adore you like my own daughter, in fact, in many ways, you are my mini me, but I think what you're looking for is the last word, closure.

Loose ends are unsettling and cruel. Been there a few times.

You have to go through this in your way, but for me, the ends are tied, you're beautiful, you're talented and you're respected by a community of writers. Oh, and apparently, you're loved by a guy that seems to have grown a great deal in your time apart.

You're in the penthouse. This clown dreams of it. You have the actual respect of other writers while he manufactures clout. You have actual talent while he writes words that don't always fit together and never really touch anyone.

Write it all out. Write all you need to. He won't look. He can't look because your shine hurts his little eyes.

Stay strong, young one. Yes, I know you hate that word....okay, stay you, it's all you need to be. Fuck him.