It Was Him

I have his wallet. The guy I dated. The one I thought I saw. And I did see him. Here's his license, his debit card, his library card, all of it. But I don't know why.

If you're jumping to bad conclusions, you're not alone. I waste too much time on maybes. Not doing that again. You can come up with plenty yourselves. As always, I'll never know. Neither will you, unless you're psychic. Is it weird I still doubt psychics when I'm being mind-controlled by an evil god?

Hard to know what to do with this. Not without knowing how come I've got it. What He made me do to him.

That's awkward. Hope my pronouns aren't confusing anyone. I just don't like any of the names for Him. They're descriptive, but they don't describe the important things. And a lot of them are just goofy.

I was trying to write about this wallet. Should I get rid of it? Hold onto it? It could be evidence, right? There's already been plenty of evidence. I should have been arrested a hundred times. Am I invisible to police? I don't even know there was a crime here. He could have just dropped it and I picked it up, even when it wasn't really me. No, that's dumb.

Here, I'm just typing to myself and nobody wants to read this. I'll finish it up.