28 October 2009

I got back my red pump shoes

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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