I tell myself how stupid I was to keep on hoping. And my broken heart grinds away into finest powder beneath his feet.
But...
...if I'm the heroine of my own story--not the victim--I'd tell it a different way.
I'd be the brave one; who kept my vows, and kept on trying even when it hurt.
I'd be the strong one; who trusted the man I loved too much to just move on; to let someone else jump in and take his place.
I'd be the one who loved despite everything; who hoped against hope; not the girl who loved too much, but the woman who choose to love more than she had to.
I'd stand against the wind alone...and let it take me.
I refuse to let them steal my story from me.
