I have descended beneath the rocks and the bottom, to dwell in the obtenebrated firmament that is without substance.

I am sad as fuck that I have to leave tomorrow for Toronto. My wife is sad as fuck, and during dinner when I had had three drinks (two prior, one during) to shuffle off the tight-coil day, she apparently gave me a loving look that I was supposed to return with jubilation and reciprocation. At the time, I was feeling two things:

1) I am so fucking glad I am intoxicated and unable to interpret the world except in a fuzzy higher plane of abstraction;

2) I am happy I can spend time with my family and not pretend--

And then her face falls and she is aghast with crippling sadness for the rest of dinner, and in the car, snuffling and crying and barely contained, and shivering and quaking and lost to bouts of sorrow I had not seen in her for some long time.

And I am sitting there. And I am sad because she is sad. And I am telling her I love her romantically. And I am trying to console someone whose requirement is to be the center of attention when she is despondent and sad. And I do not even give a fuck about this irritating personality trait. Because she is in pain and I am still intoxicated and I am trying as best as I can to basically say:

"That moment, where you wanted to have a magical connection, I was off some place else, because I needed to be some place else, and you took that from me, and what on earth do you expect. I will not be seeing you for a fucking week. Of course I will miss you. Fuck Facebook. Fuck pedantic arguments about doing saying when all you ever talk about is doing vs. saying. Do you want me to just bottom out and feel completely fucking miserable about my going?

There.

I am crying uncontrollably and asking my toddler for a hug while unable to remember what I just packed into my suitcase.

Is that enough emotion for you? Can I go back to dealing with my own shit on my own now? Are we reciprocally good on the sadness bit?"

Not hateful. Nicer than that. More matter of fact and seeking out some validation.

In 1 hour I will try to go to sleep. I will take codeine, 2 extra strength NSAIDs, 2 sleeping tablets, and a healthy dose of water. I will likely have another half night of sleeplessness. Too much alcohol trying to forget, only to have my hair gripped, my face pulled from the water, and, dripping, look into a half-mad world of tears and quaking.

And I do not mind the idea of never waking up.

I am tired of trying all the time.

I want to feel nothing on repeat. And on and on and on.

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