You get real comfortable there, teetering on those high, high heels you’ve finally conquered, standing on your expensive rug or your self-made mountain or your personal pulpit. Finally, all of your hard work has paid off and you’re where you want to be. It’s like Mama Rose is always singing in your ear that everything’s coming up roses! What could go wrong.
It’s easy to get cocky. It’s easy to get comfortable, way up there atop your perch of perfection. You worked for this shit. You’re digging in your heels. This is your place and nobody can make you move. No one would dare knock you down a peg.
And then someone grasps the corner of the ground you stand on and gives it a big, evil tug and it all goes crashing down like Jericho around you.
Now I know why they call it a falling out…
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