...my conscience has the same hard reality as a unicorn.

I let it ring. I wanted to breathe for a few minutes, and I could think of nothing that couldn't wait. Besides, I had paid almost $50 for an answering machine. Let it earn its keep.

I stood up. It was all too much. I could not even meet my own expectations, and to be asked to deal with all theirs too was suffocating.

Why bother inflicting enormous pain on yourself when sooner or later Life would certainly get around to doing it for you?

What a terrible thing life can be.

Me, feeling. What a concept.

And so as much as I can, I care about her, dear Deborah. It's probably not love, but I would rather she were happy.