I spent the evening with Miul tonight. Last night I asked if he would like to get shwarma and watch this movie we’ve both been waiting to see. Because I’m a glutton for punishment, yes?

I was on the couch we used to share; he was on his recliner and folded laundry and chatted with someone on his cell phone. I sat there trying to decide what I would get to eat on the way home.

I decided to get chips, but then maybe a chocolate bar. Ice cream? But I knew that wouldn’t be enough. I wanted to gorge myself. I wanted to drown in something, anything. I wanted to shoot heroin into my veins, to fuck a stranger so hard I couldn’t see straight. I compromised with the voices in my head and we all agreed that pretzels dipped in chocolate pudding would be acceptable. But I shall spend the whole weekend fucked up on booze drugs and junk food so I can cry out all this bullshit once and for all.

One more bender won’t make a difference. Right?

I should have stayed home alone.


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