Broken Hearted

Sometime early Saturday morning, my beautiful, wonderful, perfect car – Lil Bear – was stolen.

Words cannot express how horrible I feel. Especially since I don’t know if it was some random event, or Mick did it to get back at me for breaking .

In some ways it would be easier if it was random. I wouldn’t worry about Breezy getting taken, too; I wouldn’t worry about Thing 1‘s safety while I’m not at home…

On the other hand, I just moved into this new apartment a week ago and, already, my ONLY material asset (and it wasn’t even that *much* of an asset) has been taken from me…

Thing 1’s roller skates and the 2 new pairs of fuck-me shoes that Mr. Nice Guy gave me were in the back seat (as well as the cool leopard-print ones I got for myself ). The i-pod that one of my close friends gave me was in there…

I spent all the rest of my savings on that car.

My soul was in that car…

And I thought it hurt when Loserman left…


15 thoughts on “Broken Hearted

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