I’m always dragging that horse around.

I told him once he’d broken my heart. He told me he could sew it back together.

Ooooh, a sexy heart surgeon, I replied, all cheeky and cute.

Three days later, he gracelessly cut it out. Now I guess it can restart.

But I don’t need open-heart surgery anymore. It just leaves nasty scars anyway.

But I really don’t need to keep thinking about him… and his happy, old new beginning.

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