“Good luck with everything, pal.” That was the final text from the man I thought would be my final love. Five words bent into a flint dagger. My eyes welled and my lips blubbered; sweat soaked through my shirt. Opened and emptied, I stumbled downstairs, knocked on my roommate Adhitya’s door and asked for an invitation to his bed, where he held me as I choked back heartache. He did not disparage my ex or remind me of my worth. He only cuddled me until my heaving gave and kissed my cheek before I returned upstairs. A pal. — Skyler Gordon

Positively Purging-I welcome your feedbacks in the comments and your likes and passing the real-life wisdom on to others as I embark on this new venture of “positively purging”, as I know each of these pieces represents something…