Because the soul is progressive, it never quite repeats itself, but in every act attempts the production of a new and fairer whole.
English: a language that lurks in dark alleys, beats up other languages, & rifles through their pockets for spare vocabulary.
When logic and proportion
Have fallen softly dead
And the White Knight is talking backwards
And the Red Queen's off with her head
Remember what the doormouse said:
"Feed your Head
Feed your Head!"
I hate to think of her suffering, but the only thing for her to do now is to treat the past as the past; the event as finished and out of her life; to dwell on it, and above all to keep talking of it with anyone, would be both weak and morbid. She should try not to think of it.
The things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end.....if not in the way we expect.
You shouldn't have to sacrifice who you are just because somebody else has a problem with it.