I did tell you that my heart is made of glass.
I did tell you it's broken.
Now, why on earth do you still ask me what am I doing everyday, in the dark, and all alone on the street?
Obviously, I'm picking up the pieces, trying to put them together again, and see whether it's still working like it used to be.
I'm busy mending broken heart. Stay away from me.
It hurts.
And I'm not sending you this note.
Sent by Maxis from my BlackBerry® smartphone
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