Thursday February 26th, 2015

The exercise:

Write about someone or something that is: bitter.

Back home in Osoyoos. Even with the unfinished bathroom it feels nice. And Max, quite unsurprisingly, was thrilled to spend the afternoon at Grandma and Papa's house while I did some reno work with Kat's dad.

We got the toilet reinstalled, the shower fixtures back in, and some trim and finishing work done. Still need to do more caulking and get the shower rod up, along with some other finishing stuff, but we're close. I think.

Famous last words.

Anyway. It's nice to be basically living in one place again. Even if we're only here for a week before we hit the road.

Mine:

As I walk these streets. As I sit at my desk and try to accomplish anything work related. At each meal, every single bite. As I get into bed at night, remaining until sleep comes for me at long last. In my dreams.

There is no escape. It follows me everywhere, at all times.

I've tried evading its clutches with drugs. Killing it with alcohol. Distracting myself with gambling, thrill-seeking, beautiful (and not so beautiful) women. Nothing works. Nothing relieves my suffering, not even for a moment.

I am tired of it. So very, very tired.

An ending is required. A final chapter to the horror story that has become my life since you left. I cannot continue much longer. I must find a way to rid myself of the bitter taste in my mouth that appeared the instant you turned away. I must find solace. I must find peace.

I must, I must, I must...