Today’s prompt is to write a non-linear story. I went with the internal monologue style.

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I have an apartment. Movers. Well, Craigslisters to move me. Because – ha! – I have no money. And no friends. Why didn’t I make him pay rent? Or pay for something. ANYTHING. He was getting unemployment. It’s not like he had nothing.

I can’t believe he was a moocher. I’m a sucker. Maybe I should move home. No. Can’t live there. Can’t go back. Can’t.

I should call Rita. Maybe she – No. Remember you showed up to her meeting wasted after he convinced you to that you would be fine for the meeting, just stay at the party. So that’s not a conversation I can have right now.

I wrestled a knife out of his hand! I kept him alive for how many years? Fighting his – whatever is going on in his head. And this- what I get. Evicted. And he’s just fine. Moving in with the new boyfriend. Still jobless. Still mooching.

I guess I should join the club of people shat on by him. I wanted to be different. I wanted to be special. I wonder if the other two club members will take my call.

Should have never moved in together. I thought – it was supposed to be so good. Great space, great location, good price. For the city. We were so good then.

No, we weren’t. He is not who he was in college. Well, not. He is who he was in college, but that’s the problem. Can’t depend on the ghost of belief that he’s going somewhere. Why did I ignore that he was – Lazy? Scared? Whatever. All that talent drowning in a bottle of whiskey.

And me too. My talent too. I have let a man on a chessboard get up and tell me where to go.

I should –

I need to stop thinking in shoulds. I need … I need some peace to sort myself. Some time to figure out exactly what – no – who I want to be. At least for now.

But first, I need to pay my credit cards.