Timmy:
Yes, you can.
Me:
I’m glad we agree on something.
I fill Alice in.
Alice:
Yeah, I had conversations with my ex like that. I don’t like this guy.
I locate the near-empty vodka bottle and drink straight from it until it’s all gone. Because, knowing Timmy, when he finally returns, if there was still vodka in it he’d have either run off with it or poured it down the sink. So I’m spite drinking it, if you will.
As if on cue, Timmy arrives back at the apartment.
“Are you done being crazy yet?” he asks.
The audacity.
I ignore him, and instead turn on90 Day Fiancé.
Clearly bothered by my TV choice, Timmy runs into the back room and closes the door behind him.
I switch the TV over toFamily Guy, which he enjoys watching, and I’m sure he can hear.
Alice:
I think you need to get rid of him for good. He doesn’t seem to do anything to benefit you.
Me:
Yes, he’s making me worse. He literally said he wants to pull me up, not drag me down.
And I was like, you said that, but you’re dragging me down, bro.
I deserve a man who can take ME out for dinner, not suck my savings dry while he might sell one artwork one day.
Not to shit on artists because you’re a talented one. I think you know what I mean. Like nobody is hunting his shit down like he’s Picasso.
Alice:
That’s all he’s doing.
I know what you mean.
Me:
Well, I will utilize his ‘inspiration’ and write the shit out of it. My next book after this one is about reliving sexual assault. So, hopefully it will heal people. And then I’ll do one inspired by his bullshit.
The fucked-up thing is that he keeps telling his dad about my books.
And his dad knows I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to him. So, he keeps buying my books. And I’m like, omg, how embarrassing. Stop reading my smut.
But apparently, he just started a random one. When he reads about the four dicks, he maybe won’t like me as much.
Alice: