The End of Day Five

Five days. It’s hard to comprehend. I have survived without him for five days now. Am I supposed to celebrate?

People are expecting me to start getting back to normal. I’m usually indecisive, but lately it’s been hideous. Someone asks what I want to drink, and my mind goes blank. Then I think about why it’s happening, and I start to cry. (This upsets waiters.) But it’s the people who KNOW why that bother me, because they get impatient. Excuse the hell out of me, my soul has been shredded. I’m a little distracted.

The Seinfeld theme is playing in the living room, I left the TV on. Don’t stone me, but I hate Seinfeld. I always felt the need to slap some sense into those people.

He, of course, loved Seinfeld.

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