The Collection of Nightmares

173

The darkness recedes like a fog that's been burned off by the sun, and I find myself standing once again in the living room of my shabby apartment. The stench of unwashed dishes wafts in from the kitchen, reminding me of my inability to keep things tidy. It's not just the dirty plates piled high in the sink, either. Clothes and other debris litter the floor, and I realize with a mixture of disgust and amusement that I've been living like a slob.

In the wake of the breakup, a heavy depression settled over me like a thick fog. Every step felt like wading through molasses, and just getting out of bed seemed like an insurmountable task. Thank god for my cable subscription - with thousands of channels to choose from, I could easily lose myself in a sea of mindless entertainment and forget about my problems for a while. It's true what they say: money can't buy happiness, but it can certainly buy a distraction from the pain.

Money, the root of all evil. That's what we fought about, my ex and I. Money, and how it strangled us like a boa constrictor, squeezing the life out of our love. They say it's a common problem, that money is the cancer that eats away at the heart of relationships. But in the end, no relationship can survive without some kind of income. There were the endless dates, the nights out on the town, the constant "let's try this place instead" routine. And then there was the ring. The almighty, shiny, and oh so expensive ring.

The breakup, it all hinged on that one moment when I tried to lay bare my heart to her. It was supposed to be the grandest gesture of love, the one to end all others. But even the best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry. We had our share of troubles, true, but things seemed to have smoothed out recently, and I thought it was the perfect moment to make my move. So, I headed straight to Kay Jewelers after work, ready to put down a small fortune on a ring that would dazzle her senses.

Of course, hindsight is 20/20, and looking back now, I can see how foolish and naive I was to believe that a shiny bauble would be enough to fix our problems. But at the time, all I could think about was how much I loved her, and how much I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. And so I bought the ring, without really considering the consequences of my actions.

As I walked in the door, I could smell the familiar scent of Chinese takeout lingering in the air. Julianna was already at the table, a container of chicken fried rice open in front of her. She glanced up at me and offered a smile, but made no move to get up from her seat. Not that it mattered much to me. I was too hungry to care about proper dining etiquette, so I shrugged off my jacket and joined her at the table.

I uttered a soft "Hey," uncertain of when would be the perfect moment to unveil the ring. She looked up at me with a smile and returned my greeting, but nothing more.

"I started a list of things we could do to improve this place," she announced, beaming with enthusiasm. "I know how much you've been talking about fixing up this dump, and I thought of some low-cost ways to start."

She pulls out a folded list from her pocket, written with the notepad that I got her for her birthday. As she unfolds it onto the table, I notice how neat the handwriting is, just like her personality. That's why I fell for her in the first place.

The top of the list is labeled "Improvement Ideas" and beneath it, a series of bullet points:

• Bathroom tile

• Kitchen wallpaper

• New sofa

There were other ideas that followed, but they've long been forgotten now. There's no use dwelling on the past.

"I figured you could use some inspiration to get this shithole fixed up," she said, her eyes glinting mischievously. "And since you got that bonus this month, I thought we could tackle some of these together." I considered her proposal, knowing that money had always been a source of tension between us, but in this moment, I saw an opportunity to work as a team. "Yeah, I think that could be a cool us project," I replied, feeling a sense of optimism that had been missing for too long.