The penultimate step

Deleted. After 8 months and 10 days of the dump.

I thought I was sleeping. Having my usual shot of nightmares. I checked up with the clock. It told me last night I slept 2.5 hours. A long time to have a dream, a nightmare. Almost every morning as I wake up, I find myself covered in sweat and the shirt sleeves wet. But this wasn't in sleep. It was real. It was true.

Almost all my nightmares have come true now. I have some duties to perform. I have some responsibilities to tend to. I have nothing else, fortunately.

And when I have lost everything, when the worst has been realized, when the last nail has been plugged with a sound tending to a finality, when I am dead without being dead, I realize why I cross the road running everyday and wait an extra half second in the middle of the road looking at the approaching automobile, why I try to plug my feet on a treacherous slope and slip and fall and have a chronic hurting back and never tell anyone about it, why I need something to sleep every night, why I walk on the outside of the pavement with a palm stretched backward,  why I am always faking and lying to everybody around me, why I am so impervious to every thing else and nothing affects me other than one person, why I sometimes call out a name in sleep, why I am perfecting the art of shutting down.

I have had a Dumbledoresque vision of Love being the real solution, of sticking it out, never dumping the other one. It wasn't insecurity, my dear. It was about being the only one. I am sorry I was wrong. It works in the magic realm, not the earthly communion.

Ruined inside. Cold outside.

The final step is due someday. Hopefully I will never have to write about it.