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I want to own this transition, not to simply swallow the shame of it entire. I will push for every little irony.
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Suzanne Finnamore
0
I think: I would like to take N back to a story right now, like a rake.
By Suzanne Finnamore
For me, it´s sloth," I say. "Hedonistic sloth and escapism.
By Suzanne Finnamore
It had all seemed as inevitable as sunset. Instead it was the beauty of the sun glinting upon the scythe.
By Suzanne Finnamore
I feel incendiary, a wildfire. My spirit licks at the gates of a very elaborate, customized, and distracting emotional Hades.
By Suzanne Finnamore
I´ve blown it, the whole grisly charade.
By Suzanne Finnamore
I know my vision is impaired and cannot be trusted with even the simplest tasks, much less dating. Not that I´ve come within talon distance of a man.
By Suzanne Finnamore
I review what I know once again, confronting the monolith now alien and almost unconnected to me: my marriage.
By Suzanne Finnamore
Conversely, I though humiliation would be everything, but it´s such a nothing.
By Suzanne Finnamore
The real genesis is forbidden to me, vis-à-vis N´s inability to confess even the mildest transgressions.
By Suzanne Finnamore
Flannel shirts should be outlawed for ex husbands; I realize this now. Flannel shirts are to women what crotchless panties are to men.
By Suzanne Finnamore
The abandonment came, and now this shabby bacchanal.
By Suzanne Finnamore
Yes. THANK YOU. And say hello to Judas Iscariot.
By Suzanne Finnamore
How could you do that to me?" I repeat. I don´t have to itemize. He knows what I speak of.
By Suzanne Finnamore
I am replete with stamina in finding out every single fact I can about this whole affair.
By Suzanne Finnamore
This people know where their husbands are. I would like to vomit. I would like to vomit my soul out.
By Suzanne Finnamore
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