Exspotters

Cheating exes are a bit like Google. Useful until they annoy you with their constant tracking your location. No, my ex isn't a stalker. He's just...

always lurking in the background, making sure I never truly move on. Some moments can't be erased from your mind's history, like when I sent that private message to the entire group chat. My relationship with Derick was just as unforgettable.

The way he looked at me after, the silence that followed—no amount of time could ever dull that sting.

I couldn't, however, let him see that side of me. So I swallowed my sorrow like pills and let him believe that I was all right. Because I was. ..Right?

But Derick was’t believing it. It was a dead giveaway when he looked straight at me and said…”I don’t believe it.” I sighed. When would I get to just escape my sorrow in peace? I started to think that I’d need to swallow another kind of pill before long.

Then my man James came in and said “mates, there’s a big party tonight! It’s gonna be THA BOMB! Put on your best gear and let’s go!” I figured a good party might end my misery, or at least distract from it. So I put on my favorite party outfit:

a faded band t-shirt and ripped jeans. I figured if it was a real party, everyone would be too busy dancing to judge my style. Besides, maybe some good music and a few drinks could help me forget about everything, and I grabbed my keys and headed out the door.