Four

I never thought that something as easy as shopping would make me want to slip into the comforting embrace of pain. Walking through an art store with country music quietly molesting my subconscious the things I put behind, the things I put away, sneak up on isle four. Rows and rows of my shiny toothed demons smiling in their plastic caps. Boxes of my old friend line the shelves. I pick up the x-acto on my list and grab the utility knife while I'm at it. Two things I would normally keep hidden in a hollow candle holder my ex boyfriend's grandfather made by hand and gifted me for christmas are now required purchases as I "embark on the next stage in my life".