I think this was maybe two years ago in October. It gets cold around then in Colorado. I was a pretty big smoker back then— mostly of spliffs, weed and tobacco for the uninitiated or squares.
There was a loser ex boyfriend. He never really showed up much in the way a boyfriend should and after about a year of it I’d had enough. His name was Jade which is pretty unusual for a man, but he was tall, skinny, and pretty heavily tattooed— quite the stoner. A winning type for sure.
I should describe myself too. I’m about 5’6, black hair, solid build from a lot of yoga and running. Average bust, toned ass— I’m proud of that one. I don’t have tattoos but I always thought they were hot. Hence, Jade.
Tonight he was supposed to swing by and pick up the rest of his stuff which I’d packed neatly in a box. I should have just left it on the porch, but I guess I was looking for an fight because I sat out on my shitty plastic lawn chair waiting for him to come by. It was already 6pm, and the evening was just getting darker and colder. I lit up a joint, mentally loading up ammunition for a blowout argument. I exhaled and the smoke mingled with the dingy porch light as I waited, trying to look cool and collected, for his car.