I feel replaced. I feel betrayed. I feel hurt that he can move on that quickly. I can't believe it. I'm grieving. I'm grieving the loss of my best friend. She's just a rebound, I remind myself. But that doesn't stop the tear from building up behind my gentle eyes, my yhroat burning. It's hard to breathe. But I will not cry. I will hold my head high and carry on. I am not defined by another human being. I am strong. And I can do this on my own now. I will fight this battle against depression. I will wake up every morning stronger than the day before, breathing with more purpose than before. I will survive. I am a fighter. And this fighter is not giving up. Not yet.