The Only Way out Is Through, but Sometimes It Isn’t: Part Two.
After my divorce, I'd returned home. Like an abused dog, with my tail between my legs. Swapped out a broken heart for the abuse I was more familiar with.
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The Only Way Out Is Through, But Sometimes It Isn’t: Part One.
Sometimes, the only way out is away. I didn't know that yet... Stories have happy endings. Mine would, wouldn’t it?