~* THE EMANCIPATION OF MIMI *~

I've gotten tired of texting with smileys. I think I got robbed of my feelings. I am devoid of any emotion. Emotionless. I don't care anymore. I probably got so tired of waiting that I didn't even know that I already quit a long time ago.

When you've experienced profound pain for a very long time, each and every time this person walks back into your life, at some point, you just get so sick of it that you are already numb to the pain. There comes a point that you don't feel anything at all. You don't get stupidly giddy over the crumbs the person throws your way.

Yup. I don't give a flying f*ck what the person says to me. I do not even actually believe in what that person says anymore. I guess that's what you call losing faith in someone. When someone breaks your heart more than twice, you should give yourself the dignity and scold yourself as to why the f*ck you keep falling for that person's sh*t. That's not love. That's friggin' emotional abuse. Do you seriously want this person to hold your heart in their hands? Hell no. I'm sure all those years of immense pain has taught you to be smarter and be more careful of who you give the power to hurt you.

Anyway, I think I am in one of my better moods now. I have just bought obscenely expensive shoes. And my feet are happy. Yes, I know, it's insane. But tell me, isn't it easier to toil for months to earn money to pay for royally expensive shoes than be vulnerable and let someone break your heart into pieces over and f*cking over again? I vote yes to being a happy shoe lady over a miserable bitch at someone's beck and call. It is easier to work for money than to pick up the pieces of your broken heart. Yup. You can call it compensating, but shut up. I don't need to hear it from you. I know that already.

I will shop if only to buy artificial bliss. At least my obscenely expensive shoes will always be there for me. They will never walk away from me. They will never leave me. They will always sit beside me in my lavender shoe cabinet and will always be glad to accompany me wherever I please. And those soft cushy soles will save me from getting painful bunions in the future. At least that's one pain I'll be spared from.

Maybe this is an emancipation. Maybe not. I don't know. But now I'm free. Free with a history.