I’m the ring your first love gave to you. I’m shiny and gold for the whole of the day, then eventually you stop treasuring it so much and the gold starts flaking off to reveal some cheap metal underneath that turns your fingers a rotten green. Because that’s what I do. I start taking things from people, demanding their time in exchange for my misery that they can’t begin to cure, and I don’t know when to stop. And no one likes that. So, it’s easier if you throw it away the minute it loses its shine.

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