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They don’t love you like I love you

[On 9 Dec] It’s that time of the year again where you can see snowflakes gently falling across every WordPress blog and it’s soothing for the mind, especially a mind like mine.

I have a tiny heart*. And I tend to keep it under wraps for fear someone might find it one day and viciously crush it for no reason other than it’s probably fun for them. And I do not have a spare heart lying around like loose change or tins of cookies.

So please take care of my heart if you ever find that it is yours to keep.

[Update 10 Dec] I lost my wallet, the very same one that I’ve used for seven years, this morning. I am distraught and almost inconsolable. Discovering the loss at lunch meant I had no mood to eat from that moment on.

There are wads of cash in there that I was going to use for some “birthday” and Xmas shopping, new credit cards that I should have done what she suggested and leave one at home instead of carrying both out, some old currency notes my mum gave me for keepsake, my identity card (which is going to cost me $300 to replace), my driving license ($50 to replace), my gym card, an arcade token card but what I think I was also most gutted about losing was a note that had a list of her favourite food and some old lottery tickets we bought previously. Then again, I could also be gutted about losing an estimated $250 (or more). I have no idea what else is inside because my mind is numb and I still can’t believe my stupidity or carelessness.

I want to run home now and cry into my pillow. Except I have to continue working because there is no one to cover me. Yet.

I then told my mate about it and he was like, “Was it a Bottega?”

“No. It was a JPG and I had it for seven years!”

“I had a little scissors I had for nine years and I had to give it up at the security customs. They asked me if I wanted them to throw it away or if I wanted to throw it away myself.”

We then stared at each other forlornly, understanding the intimate pain of losing something that was probably not high in monetary value, but high in sentimental value.

Arghhhhhhhhh… I am so fucking gutted.

In other news, I got a free “pro bono” haircut on account of me being penniless, card-less, ID-less and very fucking sad.

*According to classroom legend, the size of your heart is roughly the size of your clenched fist. In a diagram not drawn to scale, that makes my fist about 20 times smaller than me. Which is tiny.

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