What is wrong with me? I feel fine.
No, no I don't.
I don't care.
Yes, yes you do. You care very much.
Who asked you?
I am you, dumbass.
He's over me. I mean, he has a right to move on, but it's been...only a few weeks. I'm still crying myself to sleep.
Don't forget the random one-night stands. That one guy a few days ago...didn't he look a lot like Leonard?
I'm over him, too. We can date whoever we want.
Stop kidding yourself.
Why do I have to argue with myself?
Because you're CRAZY, Penny! I thought you knew that already.
"God, Leonard, you see what you do to me?! I've actually gone crazy! I've lost my mind over you!" Penny exclaimed, throwing her bottle of Jim Beam at the wall.
It shattered into a million tiny pieces, bourbon trickling slowly down the wall.
Knock, Knock, Knock.
"Penny?"
Knock, Knock, Knock.
"Penny?"
Knock, Knock, Knock.
"Penny?"
Moment of silence. Bourbon trickling down the wall. Penny kneeling on the floor. Tears. Scratching. Where are the damn tissues?
"Just a minute, Sheldon!"
There are the tissues! How bad does she look? Leonard always called her beautiful, even when she felt like she was the ugliest thing to step foot into the sun.
Open the door. There's a giant praying mantis. Wait, it's Sheldon.
"What?"
"Did you accidentally break something? I heard glass shatter."
"Yeah, Sheldon. It was an accident."
"Is everything okay?"
"Yeah. Why wouldn't it be?"
"Because your apartment smells like bourbon, you broke a glass, and you've obviously been crying," Sheldon points out, making Penny feel shittier than she already did.
"Just go away, Sheldon," Penny answered, shutting the door in his face.
Penny sat on her couch and picked up the shoebox on her coffee table. What was inside of the shoebox?
Photographs.
There all of him.
And her.
The both of them.
Did he still have the copies of these?
She hoped so.
Him and her. Him and her. Her and him. Her and him.
Love poems he wrote her. Little notes he wrote.
Does he write poems for her? Selfishly, she hoped not.
Set down the photographs. Go to your kitchen. Grab a bottle of wine. Drink out of it. Set it down. Walk out of your apartment.
Walk down the street.
Hope that a nice walk will help.
Probably not.
Shut that inner voice up and enjoy the night air.
