Damned men.
Damned Patrick.
Damned fool I am.
~ ~ ~
What a miserable night. I’m having a hard time
keeping up with orders and I took more breaks
than necessary in order to keep going all night.
Rain sent me up an hour before closing, worried
about me. She thinks I’m tired, that I’m pushing it
too much. The truth is that my chest hurts and I
have a weight on my heart that’s as big as a
mountain, again, and that I should not have
deceived myself.
Patrick left this morning at dawn, at least that’s
what Rain told me. The guys will be gone for a
few days. A record-house manager contacted them
and asked them to come out and play a few pieces.
This could be a new beginning for them and a
massive disappointment for me. After our brief
discussion yesterday afternoon, I avoided him at
all costs last night and closed the apartment door
and locked it. So he couldn’t come ask me to talk
about it again.
I get into bed, hugging a silly stuffed animal my
father gave me when I was eight years old, and
which I’ve never given up. I hug it tightly, looking
for warmth and comfort, but it’s only a stuffed
animal and not able to give me what I want from a
pair of strong tattooed arms.
Then I let myself fall into a tormented sleep,
