Why some breakups are good for you.

I'll let the pictures do the talking.

Ok.

So this was us before.... aka circa "insekta" aka that time we thought we were just supposed to be supportive little girlfriends and "acquire" the taste for rock music cuz we were obedient like that:

Obviously, back in those days, we weren't allowed to put makeup on lest we be called "sluts" or social climbers (cuz being conscious of how we looked back then was blasphemous to the scene we were in) so we didn't really have much practice then.

So when it was finally over and done with and they had up and left:

*cue When It's Over by Sugar Ray*

We let ourselves go.

And went buckwild with our magical mascara wands and pretty little dresses and pretty little high-heeled shoes and finally admitted to the world, "Yes. We love Usher. And Chris Brown. And Beyonce. And club music in general. Now let me two-step on over to the bar for another jagerbomb."

And learned that you don't need a man when you can make out with your own girlfriend and get drunk and she'll still be better to look at.

And that a good guy, though he may think you're the prettiest "sweat pants, hair tied, chillin' with no make-up on," will still appreciate it when you get all dolled up.

And that you don't have to be ashamed for wanting to love and be loved. Even if you seem to be going about it the wrong way. You'll get it right.

So here's to my girl, Beverly... and to all of my other girlfriends whose stories inspire me (whenever we have those deep girl talk type talks) and who love me... false lashes and all. =)

And this was the song we used to play on loop in her car on our way to the club: