Sad

[smokingboot]

Well, she doesn't want the present, any present. She doesn't want to touch anything someone else has touched, she just doesn't want it.

I will try to cancel the living bouquet.

Why am I upset? How can I be so close to tears over this? I am almost angry. And yet, despite its root in a mind thoroughly infirm, there is some sense here; she hasn't been vaccinated. And of course she didn't want me to give her number to the delivery driver, so OK.

This should be nothing, I guess. If I can get the money back, why not be pleased? But I am so far from pleased I am fighting a kind of anger. I'm so tempted to say,'can't get a refund, look just don't answer the buzzer, let the plants rot on the sidewalk, like your teeth are rotting in your head cos you won't go to a dentist, like your mind has rotted cos you wouldn't see a doctor and you wouldn't take any drugs or counselling if you did, like your life rotted away long ago to this awful sham without light, with as little heat or sanitation as possible so that you can just surrender yourself up to this illness, which has eaten almost every part of your personality. Knock yourself out, have a great time.'

So bittter, such unjust words, it's as well I say them here and nowhere else. Why am I not crying, why do I just widen my eyes and force the tears back as though nothing was happening?

Answer: because nothing is happening. I just have to respect her wishes that's all. She will be as happy as she can be with that. I have no right to try to impose my idea of happiness on her, no right to any of these feelings. And in the end, who knows how she might catch Covid? It's not as though this lifestyle doesn't have some benefits for her.

I get it, I get it, I do. And now the tears are subsiding though they'll be back later. But right now, I will sort this out and that will be that.