I went through a bunch of old receipts in my wallet. They’re all from the last few months and they all have a set of memories attached.

There’s one from that art museum. I lied and said I was a student. I never would’ve remembered that if it weren’t for the receipt. It’s an insignificant detail amongst my memories of that day. There’s one from that bar in the West Village. It had been on my list for a while and I finally went on a Sunday night with a new friend.

They’re reminders of where my money went. I went through them and thought about the people I was with.

My friends. I miss my friends. I don’t feel good about the last time I saw some of my friends. I know I left things in a weird place. I was dealing with some shit and not well in hindsight.

I thought about the times I went out alone.

It’s one of my favorite things to do. I don’t exactly remember when I started loving it so much. I spent a lot of money on dinner with myself.

And then I threw them all out because that life is over.

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