1. The pile of bricks my ex brought home from Restore when I wanted to re-landscape my backyard, bought without asking because they were a good deal, $150 worth of bricks I still have not paid him for, will never pay him for

2. A familial predosiposition towards anxiety

3. Phone books delivered to my driveway

4. That time another ex was breaking up with me and on our way out of the bar, in one swift motion that astounded tipsy, weeping me, she pushed me through the door to the bathroom and up against the tile wall and kissed me, aggressively, without space for yes or no, and I kissed her back because I still wanted her to want me, but she didn’t, and then she walked out as though nothing had happened

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