adrift.

We got in another fucking fight again. And now here I am at 1am in the morning wandering the streets. It's pissing down with rain and this leather jacket + hoodie combo isn't doing much to stop me from ending up soaking. My combat boots are taking in more water and making a squelch noise every third step. My sports bag keeps knocking into the same little part of my hip but in all honesty I don't give a shit. I've got my booze and my basic possessions and I'm away from him for now. That'll keep me warm. That'll keep me going. That'll make me forget about the lovely bruise that'll form on my side if I just. keep. walking.

I say 'my booze' but in reality I swiped it from his apartment before I left. It's his favourite, and I'm petty, and he's an asshole. As soon as I left I went to the little bodega on the corner and picked up the cheapest, most off-brand bottle of coke I could find. Y'know, that kinda shit that's called Koke and has a weird label with three billion illegible ingredients on the side. My ex always insisted I drink this rum straight so I could 'really appreciate the the notes blah blah blah'. Yeah, well, alcohol goes down easier with a mixer. Especially when it's cheap Koke I'm pouring into your $80 bottle of rum.

My ex and I are done this time. I mean it. Just... when our relationship is good, it's good. We spend full weekends in bed just fucking and ordering take out. We spend weekdays climbing out the emergency staircase and smoking weed on the roof. Together we're a storm that shouts fuck you to the world, we've got each other. But for each high there's a sharp low. He drinks a lot, gets controlling a lot, sleeps with other women a lot. But he's 'an artist, he has to feel every extreme' as he once told me.

Tonight I finally called him out on his bullshit when I found more size 4 lingerie on our couch, and asked him to take a fucking STD test. For my sake. Which is when he lost it and started screaming at me. He got angrier and angrier and started coming towards me when I threw the vase at him. It missed, which is what I intended. I didn't want to hurt him. I just needed him to back off. It smashed against the hard wood floor. He stared down in horror.

A few months back I packed my gym bag full of essentials – my passport, some money, other ID, credit cards etc. Just in case I had to high tail it out of there. I kept it under a floor board on my side of the bed. As soon as the vase smashed I went straight into our bedroom to get it. The plan was to just leave straight after but... then I saw him. He didn't even look at me. He was so concerned about picking up that $120 vase and piecing it back together that he didn't even notice me, or that I was about to leave. His possessions were worth more to him. I was disposable.

So I decided to hit him where it would hurt. I snuck into the kitchen and grabbed the rum. He wouldn't notice it tonight but he would tomorrow. And then he'd fucking care. 

I slammed the door to the apartment so hard the frame shook. Who knows if he looked up to see me leave. At least I knew I got to go out with a bang.

But now it's 2am and I still have no idea what the hell I'm gonna do. I don't have many, or any, friends here. Our relationship was so intense that not many people could face sticking around as bystanders. And he was basically the first person I met after moving here. I have money but no hotel is gonna let me in this late. Every taxi is gonna drive straight by me as I look (and probably smell) like a drowned rat. And this rum + coke mix is nearly finished. I might as well find the nearest bench and figure this shit out.

The streets are so quiet. All you can hear is the light drizzle of rain and occasional car drive by in the distance. I breathe the humid air in. I close my eyes and relax my shoulders, relieved that I've finally taken that damn bag off. I let five minutes pass by, thinking of nothing, taking everything in. When I finally come back to earth, something catches my eye. Down the alley in front of me flashes a pink neon sign. I grab my bag, cross the street, and walk toward it. It says OPEN, with a door laying ajar underneath. I go inside.

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