Seven

I’m trying to survive, on a diet of rice crispy treats and marijuana.

I’m not getting very far.

I spent my lunch break at work sobbing in my car.

You know how hard it is for me to cry.

It’s all I do, anymore.

I guess I’m getting by.

Occasionally, my friends will make me smile.

Genuinely smile, like you used to do.

I’m not over you.

Not even slightly.

Maybe one day I will be, but today is not that day.

My mouth tastes like blood and mango Juul pods.

I like to think that you’d still kiss me.

I like to think that you still miss me.

Even though his lips probably taste a lot better than mine do.

Is he meeting your friends?

Do your parents not know, again?

Please don’t answer those questions.

I think I’ve finally lost my mind.

I think I’ve finally done it, this time.