Repetition is part of who I am, and everything I do. I guess I intrinsically know that no one is going to listen to me the first time, or the second time, but after all is said and done – no one can tell me I didn’t tell them so.
Last night when we were fucking, the boy wouldn’t look at me. I remember when my ex started to do that. I’m not even mad. I feel like a kid who broke a cheap toy, not even my favorite one. I just don’t want to go through the hassle of opening up Tinder again.
Why do I desperately want to show myself as useful to people that don’t give a damn about me, and if I’m hard pressed to say it (ok, that was definitely not a hard press) I don’t give a damn about either?
There are types of tears that one can’t fight. The kind that come out from under the top eyelid. There is a tear duct up almost at the inner corner of the eyebrow. There is nothing I can do about that one. However, I have had eye infections there before, and so it’s good to clean it out once in a while. That’s what I have told myself for my entire life. I don’t care if anyone thinks this is stupid, it’s your fault for clicking on this link.