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264 pages, Hardcover
Published June 7, 2022
I haven’t exactly handled her illness well.
I grab her hand and ask her to please not be mad at me and tell her I promise to try harder and push myself. I cringe at how pathetic I sound. I wouldn’t act like this around anyone else. She doesn’t say anything, but she squeezes my hand and it isn’t for-giveness, but I’ll take what I can get. Usually, she’s tougher on me. I can tell she’s exhausted.
I miss him sometimes after he leaves, but only sometimes. I like to examine the faint violet bruises on my thighs left by fingerprints after sex. I study them, looking for patterns, like they can tell me something crucial about James and how he feels about me.
“I know this is confusing because I’ve been telling you to write, and get out and go on dates, and then I freak out on you When you’re away. I can’t really explain it. It’s not your fault.” She pauses. “I just feel like I’m not going to get it back.” “Get what back?” Her eyes are blue vats in a web of inky red. I’ll never be able to understand what she’s feeling, and she knows it.
I’ve had a hard time forgetting it since. I know I have to focus on the black, but sometimes it isn’t possible. I worry about everything and everyone. I worry about living incorrectly. I think about conversations from years ago and wonder if I hurt some-one, gave them a complex, and maybe they’ve lost sleep fixating on the dumb thing I said. I worry my heart will stop working. I think about time passing as I lie awake, and the rest I’m miss-ing. I calculate the hours until I have to wake up and then I think about how I’ll never sleep and then I think about how tired I’ll be in the morning. I won’t sleep tonight.