I feel so stitched together, like a rag doll - not one worn down from being loved too much, but one who has been ripped apart by loving too much. And each lover picked me apart stitch by stitch – undone. Then I’m left in threads: I am fully exposed. How can that be, after spending years –many more all told – sewing myself back together, my needle and thread fighting to keep up. I naively trusted each lover when they promised to mend me. What if someone had told me twenty years ago: If you fall in love, never fully trust them, and ask yourself – does he love me more? I didn’t know then, I wasn’t so undone – I could have stayed together.