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Searching For Rodrigo
"It looks like a wedding ring," I explained to the surly looking man behind the counter. "It has engravings on the inside... It says 'Tienes Mi Corazon,'" I pleaded with the man, desperate to find my ring, but he made no intent to move. I shot him a dirty look, and proceeded to lift up the couch, moving quickly and efficiently to get out of the café as fast as I could. The store front wasn't appealing to look at, and the waiters were equally unfriendly, so I'm not exactly sure why I went in there in the first place. Peace of mind? In other cafés I always had the feeling that someone was reading my book over my shoulder. Well, I wouldn't have that problem in here.
So how was it that my promise ring was lost in here? It couldn't have been stolen, I was the only customer there. You dont just lose something as important as a promise ring. Especially if the ring was given to you by your boyfriend, who had passed a few months back.
I felt the tears stinging in the corners of my eyes, and then came the sneezing sensation. You know, when your nose tickles right before you cry? I sat on the ugly wine-colored carpet, and leaned back against the couch, gazing at the cracked ceiling paint as an attempt to stop the tears.
I'm still not over Rodrigo. I can't seem to move on. I'll go on a date, and have fun, but by the end of the night I would find myself wishing he was here beside me, instead of the perverted hottie, the adorable geek, or the sweet goof-ball that was in his place, oogling at my sleek figure. That's why I do what I do.
The homicide rate in Newbrunswick, New Jersey has increased by 150% since Rodrigo died. And that's my fault. When he died, he took my heart with him, and no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to get it back. Every guy I meet is unique in their own way, but they all seem to get on my nerves. Dinner, movies, a romantic walk on the beach- no matter how great the date is, he offends me. And then I kill him.
Maybe I'm a psyco killer. Maybe I should rot in jail. Maybe I have a messed-up mind. But did you ever think that maybe, just maybe, I'm a broken-hearted teenager who lost their first (and last) love?
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