I know I’m jaded. I know why too. She broke my heart and I try desperately to not let it happen again. I shut people out. I don’t let another one of “her” in.

It’s been a while since it happened but it left its scar as a reminder whenever I find a girl I like. This ugly, invisible scar. There’s no cream for it. No vitamin E oil I can rub on it. No one sees it but me. But everyone experiences it in some way.

Luckily, I’m fond of being alone. I enjoy my own space. Don’t get me wrong. I love people, for the most part. Well, OK, I love my friends. The rest of the people can fuck off. I exaggerate a lot.

I stopped thinking about her on a daily basis. That’s a relief in itself. Now, trying to completely move on while having this scar as a constant reminder is my new struggle. I’ll win. I always do. But how many girls will I burn in the meantime? Plenty of them have come and gone already. Some I know were special. The scar grows. The more I curse at it.

Don’t confuse this as depression. You’d be an idiot if you did. My life is actually amazing. If you knew me, you’d want my life. I don’t exaggerate about this. Ignorance is not bliss. Arrogance is.

The scar is getting smaller.  Slowly. I don’t worry about how long it’s taking anymore. It’s only a matter of time before it’s completely gone.

It’s only a matter of time until the next special one comes her way.

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