Dear, Stone-stepper.

Hi. Do you know me? Of course you do. I’m your stepping stone. 

The first time you step on me, I didn’t act it too serious. I thought you weren’t that bad. And I still think that you’re not that bad to step on me as a stone-stepper. I can’t.

Then things changed. You spend your time with her so many times than I do. And I felt like lost something. But I won’t ever let you know how I feel about things you did to me; I don’t want to make you hate me. Although, I’m used to it. To be trampled.

I tried to find someone else who maybe could bring back my smile and laughter. And I found him. Someone fat and flabby (and his hobby is sweating). He makes me feel better everytime I tell him my feelings. He’s annoying sometimes, but I think he’s a good friend. Everything’s on my control until you came and tried to steal him from me. And you did! You stole him from me! Again, you stole someone precious to me. 

You stepped on me. Twice! Oh, yeah, that’s great. Thank you.

Someone toldme that karma does exist. And I wish it happen to you. 

Regards,

Your Stepping Stone.