here is no reason for it, and I could be entirely wrong, but I find it irritating that they may have made contact. Am I irritated at any contact at all or because I wasn’t included in that contact? I’m not sure because I don’t care enough to really figure that out. All I know is that, for whatever reason, I find it irritating.

I suppose, perhaps, that I think that I’m still owed something after what happened. I certainly paid my dues but did they ever pay theirs? They probably think so and think that what they paid in was mitigated mostly into nothingness because I deserved it. Sure, I suppose I did but only to a certain extent. I certainly didn’t deserve what they did together at the very end of it.

I guess it should be of no mystery to me. Clearly there is still some soft-voiced residue demonstrating that there are a few emotions remaining even if those emotions are all negative. I used to write that I was glad to know that she was still alive and that she was hopefully still happy but now I really don’t care. Now, there’s just well-earned bitterness and unwanted jealousy.

At one time I was the careful caretaker of her memory and now I feel like a house that has grown weary of its haunting.

f I am right, and I think that I am, I hate to break it to you that it’s not the same ocean you share.