Divemaster ask me to pick up all my stuff from his place. He hates me so much he doesn't even want to see anything of mine. I asked a colleague to help me. I don't have the courage nor the strength to see him again. That same handsome face I fell in love has turned into a lying jackass. I don't dare to see anymore.
As I sit in my room, slowly unpacking my belongings he hastily chuck into this big red hideous bag, I felt a wave of sadness... my clothes still smell of his cupboard. As I quietly sniff the scent, I remember how he allocated a huge portion of his cupboard for my clothes. As I took out my cosmetics, I remember how he cleared up his bookshelf for me to dump my vanity products. As I unpacked my toiletries, I remember how he always arranged my shampoo in upright position next to his. I left much more than my clothes, cosmetics & toiletries at his place. I left memories of pure, innocent love which no amount of LV bags can be traded for.
I sat in my room staring at my stuff. Tears started to flow, slowly trickling onto my sweaty office shirt... and I couldn't stop crying.
Michelle reminds herself never to cry for the Divemaster anymore, but the Divemaster always seem to win.
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