Forward

So there I was in a parking lot wearing last night's makeup and hair and three days' worth of self-loathing and my roommate's two-sizes-too-large sweatpants. I was grateful that she'd been able to move in so quickly after he left, and impressed by the speed at which she was able to convince the landlord to add her name to the lease, and so very tired. There's something about sudden heartbreak that wears you out. Perhaps the initial adrenaline rush after the shock of finding yourself alone and half your life taken away in a moving van is only meant to sustain you for an hour or two. Then you're left in an empty space, there to be exhausted by your circumstances. Or by an overly chatty roommate.

5 pages each.