Relapse

Sick again, from all the Siberian wind blowing out of the north. Razors in my throat. In a perfect world I’d simply die from this and not have to teach tomorrow. Instead my girlfriend will give me honey tea and I’ll forge on ahead.

She lives here now. Extreme Apartment Makeover ongoing; I didn’t even own salt or cups before she got here. She’s French and lives up to it, feeds me cheese and crackers in bed. I used to be fit but now it’s over. I have to stop her from burning my suits. But overall it’s a win-win thing here. Either we stay together and it’s all good or we break up and I can use her to make the next girl jealous, and her the next guy. Win-win.

New Year’s a few people lost their minds at that party, especially me. Still wincing over it, some real harsh shit that I said. In the aftermath it made me feel better to hear that two good friends were severely depressed. Maybe it had to start like this. I think 2015 went a little too well. Like Godfather II setting up that third one for failure. I worry that it was kind of a high water mark, which is a dumb thing to worry about, because time isn’t real, but sometimes I still do.

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5 thoughts on “Relapse

  1. I think you should marry her. People might have their careers and houses but you married a French woman and will have French citizenship. When people ask you what you do you can just reply that you drink wine and eat bread. They will be mad with envy.

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