She went through a few things. Of course she was going to
make enemies along the way. A smart woman is a beautiful woman. A beautiful
woman is a dangerous woman. A dangerous woman is an intimidating woman. And
those reasons alone are too much for some. It mattered to her though. She still
carried some of the dead weight she swore to shed. It wasn’t easy letting
everyone, or anyone, in. You can’t force a flower to bloom. It does so at its
own pace, under just the right conditions. And there’s no going back. Only
growth. Only forward. I suppose that’s what the thorns are for. Whether you
could handle her or not, you sure as hell would feel her.
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