Third time's the charm

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.

The Psychologist's Couch

Just Got Ditched! Yay! Not. I don't think I'm in love anymore, but it still hurts and I wonder why. Is companionship like any habit, more or less hard to pick up and give up? Doesn't say much good about my human nature, in that case. Would it have hurt less if I hadn't been through a hellish day today, what with Parisian buses and all? I don't know and I hate being so lost. A thought about whoring myself a bit crossed my mind, and despite almost constant self-destructive behaviour, it wouldn't be a revenge and it wouldn't help my self-image. Besides, it's not nice to use people, even if they use you right back, is it?
I wish for a better soul to take care of me.

The Chat longs for forgetful sleep.