I Had to Look at an Old Bill from Three Months Ago Just to Remember What It Felt Like to Have Money

Dear Delyara, I spent an hour tonight looking at an old receipt from a dinner we had three months ago, back when a small invoice had cleared and we felt, for just one weekend, like we were allowed to breathe. I ran my finger over the faded thermal paper, looking at the price of the coffee, the dessert we shared, and the little note she wrote on the back about a movie she wanted to see. Looking at that piece of paper at 3:15 AM felt like looking at an artifact from an ancient civilization that has been completely buried under the dirt. Right now, my bank account is sitting in the negative, and the electricity bill for our flat is sitting on the kitchen counter like a ticking bomb. The contrast between the memory of that easy weekend and the suffocating reality of this room is a form of torture. I folded the receipt up and hid it in my wallet like a criminal hiding stolen goods, absolutely terrified that the easy, happy version of our life is never coming back.