As my consciousness returns to me, I smell the sweet scent of my freshly washed linen. My eyes don’t quite open, but I can feel my silky sheets all around me. My head tosses in drowsy bliss and my arms flail to swim out of the covering. Once the blanket has fallen from my face, the sun hits my eyelids begging them to open. As I blinked my sleep away, I glanced down at my arms. Catching sight of what appear to be purple tentacles, I blink more furiously in an attempt to shake whatever trance I’ve been in. When the octopus arms before me still stand, I try to move them. They writhe and curl creepily up to my face and swipe my perplexed eyes. Feeling the rubbery suctions against my skin lead me to believe that this is not a dream.

I scream to the top of my lungs and jump out of bed. But, oh, what have I done that for? My legs! They look as those of a tyrannosaurus rex! I stomp and my bedroom shakes terribly, disturbing the books from my shelf. Scared of my own feet, I curl my toe, accidentally etching a deep scrape into my wooden floorboards. Stepping away in terror from that which I cannot escape, I press my back into the wall. Suddenly, I feel something crawling up my shoulder blades, tickling my neck. Jumping away with a shout, I realize that it is only my new long tail. Jet black and sheen like a cat, weaving every which way like it has a mind of its own.

Bringing my hands-- eh-- tentacles to my chest, I try taking a deep breath. But, what has happened to my chest? My rubbery grips find themselves brushing up against a feathery breast. Have I become a bird-octo-saurus-cat? My legs, my arms, my tail, my chest... Oh no. What has become of my face? I run into the bathroom, creating dents in my floor on the way. Coming face to face-- or snout to snout-- with my reflection, I notice my nose had become the trunk of an elephant, and my ears had been replaced with cricket antennae. My eyes had become compound like a fly, and mouth was now that of an anteater. Not to mention that my neck was now covered in fish gills. How shall I expect to work in such an outrageous condition? I guess I should call in. But, first, I must figure how to handle my phone with these hideously awkward arms...

Sometimes if two people are mature enough, you have to realize that you make better friends than lovers. There’s nothing wrong with that.

Too many people get caught up in the “Animosity” game instead of realizing the importance of true friendship.

What’s so bad about growing apart? It happens. It’s life. People come in and out of our lives all the time, and if you are fortunate enough to have had a relationship but it just couldn’t work, at least you had that time to grow.

Look it’s simple.

A good break up looks like two friends saying “ I’ll see ya later.” That’s how it should be. Both people stand up and be adults for a change and take responsibility for your part of why the relationship didn’t work out and say it to each other face to face.

That’s an example, but you get it.