I thought my life was over when he shattered my already delicate world and broke up with me. I thought he was my forever, my soul mate. I couldn’t have been more wrong. I’ve been through some shit in my life but I was blindsided when he told me he didn’t love me anymore and wanted to “move on” with his life. Translation? Take your shit and get out of my house. The house we’ve shared for the past three years. The home we’ve built together by replacing floors and buying window treatments.

The white picket fence existence I thought would be forever. Silly girl, see what happens when you think for yourself? A man comes through and swiftly rips the good from your hands. What can I do besides crash on my mother’s couch until I find something affordable? I let out a groan because he left me with nothing. Just the overdrawn bank account of a starving artist and maxed out credit cards from trying to make our lives something they weren’t.

Fuck dudes, seriously.

Thumbing through my phone contacts for a backup plan I see my sister’s number. We haven’t been the closest since she somehow got me kidnapped. And for the bulk of our adult lives we had no idea each other existed.

Can you imagine having someone out there who shares half of your DNA and you don’t even know they exist? I lived for over twenty years missing out on what could have been the closest relationship of my life. Bullshit, huh? It’s all bullshit. The world, the politicians, the fact that the little man can never get ahead because of corporate greed. You never really understand it until you stare capitalism in the face. Alas, my sister represents that way of life and everything that poisons the world.

I don’t blame her at all though; she’s smart and she got ahead without the help of anyone else. She really is a modern day female badass. A Wonder Woman, if you will. I would give anything to have half the backbone she does. Fuck all this shit.

I open up a text window and start typing out my heart and soul. It feels good to get it all out. I’ve told my mother, but I can’t ever get any good advice from her, especially when it comes to men.

How do you overcome heartbreak?

James broke up with me. I feel like a failure.

I really hope you have some badass wisdom for me because I’m so lost, Seven.

Standing, I look in the mirror at my pathetic tear stained face and think to myself, I never want to feel like this again. Ever. I will never open my heart up to another person as long as I live. It is a foolish thought, but right now it is the only thing that will get me through the day. I never want to feel again. I never want to give another human being the ability to break my soul the way James did. No single person should have that type of power over a person. My phone buzzes from the couch with a reply from the big sister I still know so little about, yet when it comes down to it I feel the need to share the details of my life with her.

You need a change of pace.

Why don’t you come visit? Stay in my old penthouse. It’s empty but fully furnished still.

I won’t take no for an answer. And I’ll give you the Seven James breakup collision course 101.

I chuckle to myself. Her life is almost as much of a mess as mine, except she’s rich. Everywhere you turn there is drama; whether it is on the business world, her personal life or that God forsaken motorcycle gang she has running with her best friend. Those dudes are serious bad news but boy, some of them really fill out those blue jeans, if you know what I mean. Shit, am I already thinking about other dudes? No, just him.

I never cheated on James but that doesn’t mean I didn’t think about it when I got rescued by Ryker. It’s one of those forbidden crushes you never talk about. He lives his life and I live mine in a totally different world. While I may not be in the best place now, at least I’m on the right side of the law. I’ve never even had as much as a parking ticket! We just come from two different worlds. I am thankful he did all he could to find me when I was kidnapped. Another piece of baggage James used as an excuse to throw me away like a piece of trash. Apparently, I am a different person since that happened.

No shit. How about you get kidnapped by some batshit crazy rich dude and see what kind of fun it turns into. Asshole. Of course I wouldn’t come back as the same person, but at least I tried to get my shit together and went to a therapist. I was diagnosed with PTSD, and my whole world was turned upside down. God forbid anything horrible ever happened to him. I guess you can’t expect the same compassion from other people these days. Even a person you dedicate three years of your life to.

I pick up a glass of water on the coffee table and throw it across the room. It shatters against the wall in a million pieces, mirroring exactly how I feel right at this moment. But the visual makes me feel better. The rage slowly spills out in a heap of emotional vomit. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and let it all out. My scream echoes through the thin walls of my mother’s residence.

“Fuck you!” I yell, fists balled up and tears streaming down my face.

“Fuck you,” I whisper and I gasp, trying to catch my breath in between sobs. This is the time I could really use a set of arms around me, cradling me like the baby I’ve become, but once again I find myself all alone, just like it’s been my entire life.

Lyric, it’s time you move on.

Leave Woodstock; leave this life that has you going nowhere.

Go to Seven.

Go to The City.

Go find your place in the world.

And like that, I packed a single bag with my most important shit and hit the road. It would only take me a couple hours to get to Manhattan. Enough time to mourn what I would be leaving behind and put on my big girl panties and move on.