I had this little habit of playing with my ring. I catch myself rubbing my thumb and ring finger - futilely.
My ex-boyfriend really doesn't want to be my boyfriend anymore - he told me so at each of our three break-ups. So it's about time I start believing...
I still check my mail and my phone and even the letterbox. Oh, he did ask for a compass. A real one, broken.
So so tired now.
The Chat would curl up -
I guess I never wondered if he was really happy. I just assumed such was the case. I'm quite unsatisfied of how things went down. One gives and takes and gives - and when one can take no more, there's a bit of frustration. A feeling of inequity.
That ring finger I was talking about - it deserves an ode, at least. It's as if it went missing, along with a part of myself. I hope it's only habit, I hope it's not forever. Such a shame, if the heart were to shrivel-
- and die.
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