Contemporaneous: Chapter 45
45. Sunday morning, I’m in bed, drifting in and out of a fitful sleep, an attempt to escape reality, but knowing I’m now at a time in the morning I have to face the day. That truth ushers in an unnavigable dread – this knowing that there’s maybe sixteen waking hours where I have to live in this new reality, but it’s a reality that I don’t want any part of. The worst thing is I don’t see an end to this. Even my relationship with Lana, as inexorable as it might’ve seemed when I was in it, always felt finite. This doesn’t. All that remains is the infinity of…
Contemporaneous: Chapters 21 – 22
21. No messages in the morning, nothing but that unease of something that went wrong, and the uncertainty of how culpable I am. But this is no different to any of the multitudes of arguments I’ve had with Lana, although (as so many do with relationships) there’s that regret of what might’ve been. I’m too inexperienced in relationships (at least long-term ones) to know if I’m unrealistic, or perhaps I’m too wishy washy to see it for what it is. I have breakfast, brush my teeth (while playing my Words shots), then shower, preparing to sit in front of the computer and try get through some writing before I meet…
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