Two Cakes And A Feeling

It happened ages ago. Before I knew that men are rugs for women's holy feet to step onto.
It happened when I thought that life was meant to be flat, when I frowned and remembered that enjoying the hours after work was defined as sticking up in front of PC talking to a guy that I hoped will spare a bit of his love for me.

And it was years ago that I was a moronic gigantic bitch who wailed on every blistering dawn wondering why the guy that transformed me loony didn't bother to text me 'Good night'.

For weeks and months and a bloody year, and from spring to summer, the imaginary love I had created for a man that I hoped would spare a little sympathy to me; crippled and crumbled. The love shrunk to unidentifiable super micro size to merely non-existent.

Unfortunately, I was the unfortunate spinster who thought that love I had created was easy to let go. Such for an unclever reason, I bought two cakes and a feeling for myself for a birthday that he celebrated with someone else.

Because I didn't really care that the invented love was mere an illogical way to express my deepest feeling towards him. Nor the unconvenient looks from the people who thought that I was actually loony for sobbing in the dark, with two cakes and a feeling as my companions. And not to mention the two candles melting the wax like a torrential flow of tears of an unhappy woman.

It was my entertainment and please don't bother to sooth me up because I don't need you to tell me that I am actually loony.

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