Love is Pain (or, I wish I cared…whore.)

Beer count: 5 , a scotch, and some lolcats.

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I find myself here.  So I have a confession. I have trouble showing my emotions, seriously.  I can feel emotionally, I just don’t show it.  For example, I was in a seriously committed, long relationship that ended.  Having one of these last heart-to-heart conversations with my ex, I couldn’t help but notice how emotional she was, read: crying.  I didn’t know what to do.  So I excused myself to the bathroom.  In the bathroom I took a good, long look in the mirror and asked myself the same question I always seem to ask myself, “How can I care?” Luckily an answer found me.  Looking at myself in the mirror so long made me notice I had a nose hair that was feeling quite adventurous.  It was sticking out enough for me to pull it out.  It really hurt.  But more importantly, I found that by pulling it out, I made my eyes tear.  I quickly tried to pull out a few more nose hairs until finally, I was showing enough tears to look like I was crying.  I left the bathroom back to my crying ex, and showed her how much I cared as well.

The End.

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