What’s the worst that could happen? —allowing yourself to let life fall into place
I was at coffee with a girlfriend the other day, over analyzing every aspect of my life (as usual) until she finally cut me off with a question that I think I’d been avoiding the whole time.
“What’s the worst that could happen?”
Of course, this conversation was involving a boy, and, of course, I was doing my best to control every tiny detail of the situation. My talking ceased and I looked at her blankly, with no intention to answer her absurd question.
“Seriously, what’s the worst that’s going to happen here? You’re going to get your heart ripped out. You’re going to be shattered into pieces and you’re going to feel every single broken piece and you’re going to cry and it’s going to hurt worse than anything you’ve ever felt. What’s so…
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