#absolutetrust

“ Va te faire foutre, Gabriel. ”

The insult is spat like venom through Irene’s teeth the moment they enter the doors of his London home, her bag thrown to the floor ( in turn sending the contents scattered across the tiles ) as she storms her way through to the kitchen--- a hurricane in Christian Dior. 

   This was more of a slap in her face rather than a surprise. Sweet mother of holy fuck, was she not expecting this motherfucker to walk back in her life. 

   What--?

“ He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same. ”

You become so vulnerable.

Giving your absolute trust…and to be let down in the end. Reliability. There is no recovery. All that you have “invested in” – this can be your life’s secrets, memories, photographs, stories – everything that you considered “life” to you with no recovery from any backup. You become so vulnerable. It’s tough. Thanks Samsung Galaxy X Fold 3. Where do you go from here? You just have to pick up…