Add your own preposition up there.  Or don't.  It may all still apply here.

This, my friends, is my first blog entry.  It may not be all that stunning to you, but it's a step that I've been putting off, so it is stunning for me.  So there, I'm breaking (in) to blogging.  I'm breaking (out) of my concealed corner of the world.  I'm breaking (off) the relationship with my reclusive and quite evil twin.  I'm breaking (down) the walls between what I believe sometimes and common sense.  And hopefully, all these things will lead me to not breaking (up) with my current beau.

At 20 till 4 on Tuesday, October 17, 2006, I realized that they weren't kidding when they said that all the best things in life are free.  Love, one of those best things in life, is indeed free.  (Ladies of the night do not love, they just work.)  BUT, even free comes with a pricetag.  Love doesn't want your money whether it be coin, bill, or plastic.  Oh no.  Love only accepts hearts, tears, and an occasional flower.  Love is a fickle bitch that flirts with some never to be caught and lands so hard on others that it nearly crushes them.  She comes and goes, but sometimes, when she goes, she leaves a little bit of herself in each of us.  That little bit is what keeps moms and dads, boyfriends and girlfriends, moms and moms, dads and dads (you get the point) together.

If you're lucky enough to have been left that little scrap of love, hold on to it because you never know when Love might make it back to your side of town.

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