i bought you a packet of cigarettes at the store. got home and placed them on top of the red bookshelf next to the door. and waited. i ordered them the wrong way. and had to try to remember the word: packet. they're sitting there. staring at me. and even though you don't even live here anymore. we get into a huge fight in my head about how i got the wrong kind. and i tell you to get the fuck out. and you slam all the kitchen doors. and mutter mean things about me when i start crying on the couch. and i tell you to get the hell out. and we break up again.


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