Chapter 20

I awoke last night to what I thought was an earthquake. Through the fog of sleep, I noticed the shaking, but couldn’t tell how severe it was. The house creaked and groaned under the stress and my heart raced. I had survived an earthquake when I was younger. Memories of my parents running into my room, pulling me out of bed, and bounding down the stairs filled my head. It was a traumatic experience that had stuck with me. I jumped out of bed and started getting my clothes on, but by the time I finished, it had subsided. As I sat in bed, I realized that it was a strong wind that shook everything.

I laid back down feeling a bit ridiculous and listened to the wind outside. The house shuttered. I stayed awake for while thinking about home. Eventually I drifted off to dreamland.

When I got up this morning, there was a thick smoke that filled the air. The wind had died down, but was still blowing out of the northwest. Finnr and Halla seemed on edge. After breakfast I went to work in the garden. Halfway through the day, I had to quit because I could hardly breathe. Walking home, I noticed that that people seemed worried. The usual cheeriness had dissipated, replaced by a feeling of distress. 

Nobody is saying it, but I can only assume that Reykjavik is burning. I don’t see what else it could be since the vegetation is still pretty saturated from the winter.

Worrying about Reykjavik is a good distraction from the hunger. It feels like the inside of my stomach has been scraped clean. A few days ago, some of the fishing boats were taken out of commission, which has made things worse. We’re not getting the calories we need. Aldan and Finnr have been working their fingers to the bone to get their boat seaworthy. It’s taking longer than expected. Hopefully they can finish up later today or tomorrow. We need more food.

Chapter 19

My eyes fluttered open. Somewhere down the hall, Aldan announced that it was time to wake up. I exhaled louder than usual. “I’m up”, I muttered before trying to orient myself. I closed my eyes. I had been dreaming of being at home in bed with Oki; Azami cuddled between us. It felt so vivid thirty-seconds ago, but as Aldan’s footsteps faded down the stairs, so did the dream. I was alone.

After our failed trip to Reykjavik, Halla and Aldan sat me down for a discussion about my future. They would allow me to stay as long as I worked in the community gardens and helped out around the house. In retrospect, I should have been doing that weeks ago, but I was so focused on getting home, it never crossed my mind.

I rolled out of bed, grabbed my clothes and went down to the kitchen. Halla was already preparing breakfast. Cured fish. Some sort of green from the garden. Fresh eggs from the neighbor’s chickens. It got light outside earlier with each passing day, but the darkness was hard to shake inside the house. I stood in the doorway, fiddling with my belt. Halla stopped cutting and held onto the countertop. Every crease on her face was accentuated by the small flickering candle next to the gas stove. She seemed worn thin, like a threadbare t-shirt, ready to fall apart at any minute. I approached and took over the preparations.

Finnr came out of his room shortly after and sat down at the kitchen table. He and Halla spoke in Icelandic. I couldn’t understand what they said, but I did pick up Aldan’s name. He must have left to work on the boat. 

After breakfast, I walked outside. The deep shades of blue had faded while Polaris clung to what was left of the night, shining as a beacon to those at sea. For a moment, the waning moon was visible before it dipped below the horizon. A few residents made their way toward the harbor.

I spent most of the day hunched over in the garden pulling weeds. My lower back ached. By mid-morning, the sea breeze had tapered off and the sun beat down. Sweat poured into my eyes, leaving them irritated. Halla stopped by to help, pointing out weeds I had missed. It felt more like a teacher-student dynamic. It felt natural to sit and listen as she pointed out which insects were pests or what healthy leaves looked like.

We finished later in the afternoon, as a few darker clouds moved in from the east. A light rain fell, cooling the earth around me. While walking back to the house, I passed Aldan and Finnr working on their boat. “A few more days, then we’ll move it to the ocean”, Aldan said. “Then we can start fishing.” I froze for a split second. It wasn’t clear if I would be going out with them. The idea of being on a small boat surrounded by endless water filled me with dread. Aldan looked at me, his face expressionless. I looked down, pretending to kick at a rock. When I looked back up, he had walked around to the other side of the boat.

This is my life now. I’m old. My back hurts. I’m dehydrated. My neck and ears sunburned. I’m hungry and I’m going out of my mind. I work long days in the garden. Do chores around the house. I’m terrified at the possibility of going out onto the ocean. It can’t say that it makes me happy, but there is something about working outside, surrounded by nature, free from the distractions of daily life. Something primal that I can get behind.

I miss my family.

Chapter 18

I’m unusually calm for my life being over. I know that seems a bit melodramatic. When you’re faced with the possibility of being cut off from everyone that you’ve ever cared about, a little drama seems warranted.

The day after I got back, I walked down to the beach early in the morning. The tide had reached its apex and was getting pulled back into the fathoms deep. Rocks glistened, reflecting twilight that had scattered across the cloudless skies above. On the horizon, fishermen were readying their boats, heading out onto the ocean. The only sound I could hear were waves crashing against the rocks and a few gulls in the distance.

I was upset. Scrambling around thinking about all the choices I had made in my life that brought me to this point. I jumped onto a mossy rock, still wet from the early morning tide. My foot slid out and I crashed down hard. It happened too fast for my hands to be of any use and I hit my head, rolling off the side in to the ocean.

The water wasn’t deep. I woke up when a wave crashed over me, pushing me further toward dry land. I didn’t react immediately. I laid there, staring straight up at a single fading star. It reminded me of an incident I had I was younger, adventuring on the east coast in the winter. I hadn’t packed enough clothing on an outing and received a mild case of hypothermia. I remember feeling tired, like if I wanted to, I could go to sleep and everything would be ok.

The same thought went through my head as I sat shivering in the north Atlantic. The water washed around me moving me back out toward the sea. It was tempting. I mulled it over in my mind, wondering if I could actually do it. Somewhere from the depths, a loud “NO!” erupted. I flipped over, crawled out, and found a large flat black rock to lay on. I struggled to strip down to my underwear and spread out my clothes so they would dry faster. An hour later, I walked back to the house.

I learned something important that morning, but I’m unclear what it was. I’ll figure it out. I have time. At this point, there is nothing I can do other than wait this whole thing out. It can’t go on forever.

Lie.

Why do I always lie to myself when the truth is right in front of me? I’m trying to convince myself that it will be over soon, instead of acknowledging how royally fucked everything is. I’m in denial. It’s obvious that I’ve been telling myself what I want to hear because I’m too chickenshit to face my problems. I’m not going home. At least not any time soon. I need to accept that and move on instead of wallowing in self-pity.

It’s time to settle in for the long haul.

Chapter 17

We drove in silence for over an hour. I drifted in and out, but woke when Finnr veered to the side of the road and slammed on the brakes. My heart leapt out of my chest. For a split second I thought he was going to pull out a gun and force me out of the car, but he sat there, staring straight ahead. It wasn’t until I noticed what he was staring at that gave me pause.

It was a caravan. Far enough away that I second guessed myself, but every moment that passed, the clearer it became. Finnr must have felt uneasy because he got out of the car and motioned for me to follow him. He walked around to the back of the car and popped the trunk. He was moving faster than I’d ever seen him move before, but it wasn’t frantic. He had an air of calm surrounding him that put me at ease. It wasn’t until he opened up a large canvas bag and pulled out a hunting rifle that I resumed shock. I had never seen it at the house and didn’t even realize he owned one.

I was staring in disbelief when he grabbed my arm and pulled me behind a mossy outcrop of rocks. As we sat there, a thought entered my mind, that I pushed out. “Was he going to kill me?”                  

The caravan was almost on top of us. We could hear the sound of squealing brakes as it slowed. The lead car came to a stop. I peaked out from behind the moss and watched as a man exited his vehicle and walked toward our car. Finnr moved out from behind the rock, holding the gun to his shoulder. I tried to grab him, but he was too quick. The exchange became heated at once, but I couldn’t understand anything they were saying. A woman got out of one of the vehicles and approach Finnr. His demeanor changed and he lowered his gun. She came forward and embraced him.

Finnr and the woman talked for a bit before he beckoned me over. I crept out from behind the rock, still uneasy. The woman approached me, shook my hand, and introduced herself as Anna.

We started to discuss my plans to return home but she interrupted me. There was nothing in Reykjavik. At least nothing we would want. The airports were shut down. Shipping ports abandoned. The city had turned to chaos within a week. It was the reason they left.

For the second time that day, I sat down on a rock and cried. I looked up and could see faces staring at me, but couldn’t make out any features. Tears had blurred my vision. My head was spinning. A few of them helped me to my feet and brought me back to the car. I couldn’t object. The caravan started back up and as the last car passed, Finnr turned his car around and fell in line.

When we got back to the junction, the caravan stopped. A few people got out and hugged each other, said their goodbyes and headed east. The three cars that remained, including Finnr’s, turned down the dirt road back toward town.

Chapter 16

We leave tomorrow morning. I packed all my belongings in under 30 minutes, so I’ve spent most of my time pacing around my room. I must have made some sort of breakthrough in my sleep because I don’t feel as scared as I did last night. It’s more of a nervous excitement, which feels more normal to me. I’ve always considered myself to be somewhat adventurous. Despite never experiencing anything like this, It feels like it should be up my alley. Time to go home!

Chapter 15

Aldan came to my room this morning and had me to follow him to the kitchen. When I walked down the narrow stairway, I could see the family sitting around the small table. Something was wrong. Finnr wouldn’t even look at me, and Halla kept fidgeting with her hands. I felt sick. The silence was deafening. I tried to imagine a scenario where anything good was about to happen, but I couldn’t. After what felt like an eternity, Aldan let out a sigh. 

It turns out Finnr wants me to leave. He’s concerned about food and he’s worried about having to support an extra person. I get it. I don’t want to get it, but it’s hard for me to argue. I’ve been so focused on getting home that I didn’t stop to think that I was a burden to anyone else. All I’ve done is mope around feeling sorry for myself, unaware that those around me were feeling anything at all. 

It’s obvious to me now. I could see it in their eyes, like the woman in the car. They’re terrified. I offered them more money, but they turned it down. Aldan said it wasn’t about the money. I felt my face turn red immediately. Embarrassed that I thought money could fix everything.

After our meeting, Halla pulled me aside. In broken English, she told me that the neighbors had agreed to loan Finnr their car to take me to Reykjavík in a couple days. I somehow managed to respond with “sounds good”, despite being a complete wreck on the inside. I didn’t want everyone to see me have a meltdown so I went back upstairs to process things.

I curled up under the blankets and let my mind explore my emotions. They were difficult to discern. My mind sifted through an infinite number of thoughts all at once. I couldn’t pin point anything specific. I sat up in bed and started to breathe. I listened to the air flow through me. 

I’m scared. More than anything else, I’m scared. I’m scared of the uncertainty. Of not knowing if I’ll ever see my family again, if they’re even alive. Not knowing if I’ll get home and Oki will want a divorce, or what I’ll do if I get to Reykjavik and it’s a pile of ash. I’m scared that I’m going to die here, alone. Buried and forgotten, like a dream after you wake up. I don’t want to be forgotten. It fills me with dread.

Chapter 14

Last night, I heard the family arguing. No raised voices or anything, but I could tell it was a heated discussion. It was like the subdued arguments my parents used to have downstairs when they thought I was asleep. There was never any yelling, but I could feel the animosity. They thought they were doing me a favor by staying together. That’s what they were taught. The family unit must remain intact at all costs. I hated them for it. I hated myself even more. My existence was the reason they were so miserable.

I’ve never talked to Oki about this. I don’t think it would go over well. Nobody wants to accept that “til death do us part” has an asterisk in front of it, even if it’s generally understood. What happens when you’re not happy anymore? How long do you have to try and force it? There’s a fine line between sticking It out and knowing when to quit. Sometimes I’m unsure which side of the line I’m on.

I love Oki, more than anyone, but I’m not the type of person to think she’s the only one I could be happy with. She’s the only one I want to be happy with. People change though. I wouldn’t hold on to a doomed relationship for Azami’s sake. Especially if it made things more miserable at home. I’m not lazy. I understand the value of hard work in a relationship, but at some point, you reach a limit. I’m unsure of where that limit is.

Growing up, I was a romantic. I fell in love at 12. We met in a closet at a birthday party and she broke up with me a week later. I was heartbroken. This cycle continued into my 20’s until one day, I decided I was a realist. It wasn’t until my early 30’s that I realized I was selfish. I say “realized” like it was some epiphany, but it took years of therapy to get to that point. It’s something that I still struggle with. Even knowing I’m selfish, I sometimes discount Oki when she points it out.  Why is it so much easier to hear truth from a complete stranger than your best friend?

I need to go home. The longer I’m here, the further away I feel, as if I’m in a hurricane, pushed out to sea in life raft with no oars. I’m afraid that one day I’m going to wake up and find that the storm has passed and I’m adrift, resigned to being alone. I need to go home.

Chapter 13

Every morning I wake up to my stomach growling. I’m not starving, it’s smaller portions than I’m used to and it makes me uncomfortable. Uncomfortable isn’t the right word. More uneasy. It’s like the hunger is another reminder that I have no control over my life right now. My body feels like a shell of what it used to be. My thoughts drift off, as if they’re trying to escape. I waited by the road the other day and couldn’t stop thinking about hamburgers. I couldn’t tell you if it was two minutes or two hours. Time has taken on a different meaning.

My autopilot doesn’t work. Little mindless tasks I used to do without thinking now take effort. I’m aware of how long they take. I can hear a clock ticking in my head. A metronome keeping tempo. Alternatively, I can sit against a rock for hours and it doesn’t seem to register. I’m going crazy. I know it sounds dramatic, but I do feel like something is wrong with me. It’s not hyperbole.

One of the most frustrating things is that nothing has changed. It’s the same thing, day after day. Every fucking day. I walk out to the road and wait for nothing to happen. The raven stopped visiting once it realized I didn’t have any food to offer and no one from town seems to care. I’m crawling out of my skin. Like I’m a shell of the person that I used to be, and every day I’m stuck here, a little part of me breaks off and disappears. I’m scared that by the end of this, I’m going to be nothing. My heart aches for my family, I want to go home.

Chapter 12

I saw a car driving toward Reykjavík yesterday. At least that’s where I assumed they were going. The sound woke me, my eyes swollen shut from crying. I scrambled to my feet. It was late in the day, the sun low on the horizon. My first thought was that It had already passed and I had missed my opportunity. I stood motionless, straining to make out the direction it was headed. It was definitely getting louder. My heart started racing.

The car appeared from behind a small hill in front of me a few hundred yards away. For a moment, time stood still. I had envisioned this scene play out every day since I started walking out to the road. My mind drifted off, thinking of home, holding my family in my arms. As the car came closer, I snapped back to reality and ran toward it, waving my arms. I held my hands out in front me, pleading for help, but they didn’t slow down.

I caught a glimpse of the occupants as the car drove by. It was a young woman with two small kids in the back seat. I could see her staring straight ahead. As she passed, I watched her glance out of the corner of her eye. We made eye contact briefly and then she was gone.

I ran after her, my excitement turning to anger. Lungs burning, I gasped for air. I reached down, picked up a rock and threw it as hard as I could, knowing that it would never reach its target. In my rage I lifted another larger rock above my head and smashed it on the ground. I collapsed to my knees as my anger gave way to sadness. How could she do this to me? I laid down on the pavement listening to the car for as long as I could. It was hard to hear over my sobs. After a few minutes the distant hum disappeared behind a rocky outcrop. I rolled over onto all fours and retched, throwing up what little I had in my stomach. 

By the time I had some semblance of control over myself, it was dark. Clouds had moved in and blocked the moonlight. A strong southern wind pushed in from the coast. It had a faint brine smell to it. Everything felt hard. Gathering my thoughts. Standing up. Even walking proved challenging. After one particularly nasty fall, I didn’t immediately get back up. My mental and physical exhaustion had taken its toll. I felt defeated.

I thought about what it would be like to lay in place until death. My body decomposing, sinking back down into the earth. Could I do it? Would anyone come looking for me? That thought scared me the most. The fact that I could disappear and nobody would know, and worse nobody would care. I stood up and started walking, knowing full well that I didn’t have the conviction to pull it off. 

When I got back, Aldan tried to corner me, but I couldn’t even look him in the eyes. I walked straight past him upstairs to my bedroom, locked the door and laid down in bed.

I thought about the woman in the car as I replayed the scene over and over again in my mind. Our eyes only met briefly, but I could see the fear, the desperation. It’s comforting to know that I’m not the only one that’s scared. Grief is much easier to deal with when it’s shared, even if it’s with a stranger.

Chapter 11

I watched the stars last night for the first time since I arrived. After dinner I grabbed a blanket and laid down in the grass. The moon hadn’t risen and all the lights in the city were off, except for some glowing windows in the distance. Smoke rose from a few chimneys. The smell of embers turned into a slight haze that hung near the ground. It was so quiet I could hear the earth moving beneath me. A moment of peace in a chaotic world.

It’s possible that the world is fine and I’m the chaotic one. Those around me move about their day, oblivious to my crumbling existence. Unaware of the wake of sadness and misery I leave behind. I’m sure they understand. Why don’t they acknowledge it? Maybe it’s human nature to shy away from pain; a defense mechanism to save ourselves from hurting. I don’t know.

Since no one in the town has any idea what’s going on, I decided to make a habit out of walking to the ring road. I want to talk to someone with new information, but it doesn’t seem like anyone cares. I can’t be the only person that wants clarity. I’m in a fog, not able to see the outside world. It’s so close, like I need to walk a few more feet and I’ll be out in the open, sun shining down on me.

Today’s trip to the road was as fruitless as the last, albeit the weather wasn’t as pallid. I sat against the same rock as before, staring ahead. I tried not to think about how my stomach was turning inside out. I was too hungry to take a nap. After a while I was overcome with a feeling of dread. There was no wind, no sounds. The stillness no longer brought life. I felt nothing, like I was the last human on earth. Not even the raven came to visit.

As I sat there, trying to understand my feelings, a thought popped into my head that terrified me. I pushed it from my mind as it entered. Everything is going to be fine.

When I returned from the road, Finnr and Aldan were working on the boat. Halla was with some of the other townsfolk out in a field to the west. Later, Aldan pulled me aside to let me know the town thought it would be smart to start some gardens. I agreed, went inside up to my room and closed the door.

I get why they want to start gardens, but is that the best use of time? We should be getting answers, not burying our heads in the sand going on as if nothing was wrong.If we could talk to someone on the outside, we’d hear that everything is fine. Things got a little crazy, but life will return to normal shortly. I’m going crazy.

Chapter 10

I had a meltdown yesterday evening. In a moment of desperation, I walked the 5km to the ring road, hoping to find some new information. I got to the road a few hours before sunset. Usually there are buses carrying tourists around the island, but all I heard was silence.  The wind blew in cold from the coast. Dark clouds loomed on the horizon. I walked to the other side of a large basalt boulder that faced the road and sat down.

It’s a strange feeling to be alone with only your thoughts. It’s like entering a cave with no flashlight. You walk deeper and deeper and the light fades until you find yourself alone. You reach out in front of you for any sort of surface to grab onto. After a while, you forget the reason you entered the cave to begin with. It can be dangerous to explore the darkness.

A raven flew in from the east and perched on a rock close by. Its guttural croak woke me from my day dream.  I watched it for a while as it scavenged for food. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was. Finnr and Halla had cut back on the meal portions a few days earlier. I’m grateful they’re still giving me food, but how long will it last? Am I going to starve? I hadn’t considered that a possibility, but. . .

I must have drifted off because I woke up shivering in the dark with rain on my face. Finnr was nice enough to let me borrow one of his jackets, but it couldn’t keep out the cold that had seeped in. Unsure of the time, I walked back toward town. The moon was out, illuminating the road in front of me. I stopped, listening for the raven, but it had moved on. I should move on. I bet if I started walking, I’d run into someone that knew what the hell was going on.

I arrived sometime in the middle of the night and crept into my room where I drifted off to sleep. When I went downstairs this morning, Finnr and Halla greeted me, but something was different. There was something about the way they greeted me that made me anxious. They weren’t hostile, but there was definitely something off. Do they hope I disappear? If they do, they’ll have to get in line behind me.

Chapter 9

I’m sure that they’ve heard my sobbing from the other room. It’s been a week since everything went dark. I still don’t understand what’s going on, but the truth is I don’t think anyone can. Halla and Finnr seem as lost as I am, and Aldan has stopped speaking. He’s scared. Everyone’s scared. You can feel that something is wrong. The way people look at each other, the anxious way they talk. It wreaks of desperation.

The town had a meeting yesterday. Everyone gathered in front of the whaling museum. There was a weathered couple in the middle talking to everyone. It was all in Icelandic. I looked around for Aldan, but couldn’t find him.  Someone close by saw my confusion and translated for me. 

They’re dividing up the rest of the food in the market. It was the most civilized process I’d ever seen. I remember watching news clips showing Black Friday in the US. Shoppers pushing, and shoving, getting into fights, all over cheap televisions. It seemed barbaric. I imagine it had more to do with population density and less to do with moral character. Animals fighting animals for resources. Except in that instance, the resource was a television. I can only imagine what would happen if they had to fight over food.

I spent the morning down at the beach, looking for nothing and everything all at once. The small marina had more people than usual for this time of day. Some were fishing, others were tending to their boats. It was quiet though. People weren’t chatting. I walked over to a man I hadn’t met who was fishing and sat down on the dock perpendicular to where he was. He looked at me and nodded, making no attempt to communicate, not that we could have, anyway. After a few awkward moments, I got up and walked off.

I’m sitting outside against the house. It’s still a bit chilly in the morning, but when the sun comes out, the world awakens. The radiant heat from the wood panels behind me warms my soul. At least for a moment. It’s easy to get lost in my emotions when I think about my family. I fear the worst, but a more rational part of me steps up announcing that everything is fine. I’m sure they’re doing fine. They have family close by, good friends and neighbors. I’m glad we decided to move out of the city. I’d be a lot more stressed if she was in the city.

It’s difficult to not be in control for once. Not that I was ever in control, but I felt like I had a pretty good handle on things. I’m kidding myself. It’s laughable to think that we have any control at all. We’re all hurtling through space in an infinite universe, clawing our way out of the mire. What a miserable existence.

Chapter 8

I’ve never been comfortable with silence. As a child I avoided it like the plague. 4 days ago, I awoke to nothing. Instead of the typical sound of early morning Icelandic news, there was nothing. Silence. I looked over to see the time and the clock wasn’t working. The power was out. It was light enough outside to be awake so I got out of bed and got dressed. I heard muffled voices below. Looking back, I realize they didn’t sound normal. They seemed stressed, almost frantic. I was too tired to recognize that at the time, so I crept downstairs trying not to wake anybody else. Finnr and Halla sat huddled around a few candles. They got quiet when they saw me. I could hear the faint hum of a generator in the distance.

Halla paused for second, then got up and started making breakfast. It seemed a little rushed, anxious. I sat down at the table and Finnr looked at me, elbows on the table, hands clasped in front of his mouth.  He stared at me, his eyebrows furrowing for a second before getting up and going outside. A few minutes later, he returned with Aldan, who also looked worried.

All three of them sat around the table while Aldan told me that they’re cut off. I didn’t understand what they were saying. I knew they could tell, because Halla said something to her son, who in turn took a deep breath.

He said the power was out in town; phone lines, cell phones, internet, nothing worked. A neighbor said an announcement came on television before the power went out. It described several large explosions in major US cities. That was right before the power went out. I’m not sure why the power would go out here, but I can’t imagine anything good. I thought it was a coincidence at first, but I’m less certain now.

I meant to leave for my next destination a few days ago, but I don’t think I’d be able to get there even if I wanted to. The only visitors coming to town are seagulls, but even they seem a little off, like they’re keeping a secret. I want to know what’s going on. I’m sure everything is going to be fine. It’s hard when you’re in the dark.

It’s funny because I’ve been in so many situations where I couldn’t call home, sometimes for weeks. But the moment that I want to call home and can’t, I get upset. I never understood how Oki had such a difficult time with the limited communication. Now I’m starting to understand. It sucks. This sucks. It’s going to be fine. I need to weather the storm for a bit.

Chapter 7

I’m feeling a lot of different emotions right now, and can’t place a finger on any specific one. Something is wrong, and not in a way that feels normal for me. I’m kind of too stressed out to elaborate right now, but it’s fucked. Everything is fucked. I’ll try to write more when I figure things out, but right now I have to try and make sense of everything.

Chapter 6

I stared at my laptop for quite some time today, hoping to call Oki. . . and yet I found myself unable to. I mean, I could have. The cursor was over the icon but I didn’t click. I couldn’t. I decided to check-in via email instead and ended up lying to her about the internet connection. I said it wasn’t very good and I was lucky to even get this email out. I don’t know why. I mean, I do know why. I don’t enjoy admitting to myself that I’m not as good as I perceive myself to be.

I hate arguing. I guess every couple does, but I hate it to the point that I sabotage conversations to get out of it. If we’re on the phone, I’ll say that I’m running out of service, if we’re at home, I’ll have to go to the bathroom. I’m sure she knows what’s going on and I know it’s not healthy. For me, time is the only thing that will heal things, more than talking it out. It allows me to get perspective on everything. But that’s the issue, right? Time helps me. She might need something different. How am I barely figuring this out? I should call.

This feels a lot like a stalemate. Neither of us is willing to give in and call the other person. I’d feel a lot worse if Azami was old enough to comprehend things, but she’s so young, I doubt she’ll miss me too much.