My thoughts about K are not entirely coherent, and are further jumbled together with the constantly rising levels of both anxiety and self-hatred that seem to boil up together as though from a tar pit. Sticky. Very hard to get free.
The progression of thoughts go something like...
a clutching panic as another month since our "break-up" on Dec. 7 slides quietly past
the conviction that I should never have expected anything that good to happen in the first place
the remembrance of my status with my parents as the doll they kept for a few years to play with but threw away when their interest waned
a return to the conviction that it is for the best if there are no further personal complications in life
then of course, finding it impossible to face who knows how many more years alone
Another forty years like this?
Back to praying for an honourable out.
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