Cae.
Llora.
Quiébrate.
Desmorónate.
Hazte polvo.
Pero levántate.
Vuelve a intentarlo.
Cariño,
no pasa nada.
Lyn.
“And I began to let him go. Hour by hour. Days into months. It was a physical sensation, like letting out the string of a kite. Except that the string was coming from my center.”— Augusten Burroughs (via perrfectly)