Your Mid-Week Update for 06/10/20

Man, I miss people. I see my husband and my…Casey all the time. And obviously I see the people I kill. But I haven’t had a conversation with someone in so long. Having Heather here has turned out to be good for both of us, as predicted. I feel less lonely and I think she feels less alone. She is far from okay but she’s not alone.

That’s what 2020 has done to all of us: we accept the bare minimum because we have to. And how fucking depressing is that?

On top of that, it doesn’t feel right to kill at the moment. I could go out at night and slash the throats of people I believe deserve it. But it would feel empty.

I am quickly growing tired of the constant back and forth between angry and sad. I hate feeling powerless and that’s where I am.

The only think I know I can do is be there for my friends and family. So I am going to take care of Heather, and I’m going to teach Casey, and I’m going to kiss my husband every time he walks out that door.

Heather and Casey still haven’t quite warmed up to each other. It’s like they don’t know what to think of each other. I’ve told them about the other – as much as I thought appropriate – so they knew where the other was coming from. But they don’t talk to each other when I’m not in the room. And I realize I’m talking about a fifteen-year-old and thirty-something woman, but I want my best friend and the closest thing I have left to a daughter to get along. That’s not a hard ask, is it?

And I feel like I’m trying to do it alone because James is gone. I don’t blame him at all, I just miss him. Especially because these days at home are so long, it feels like forever. He always comes home with interesting stories, though. There’s a woman who chopped up her husband and stuffed him in the freezer 10 years ago and they only just recently found his remains when a neighbour went to help put away groceries.

Gotta admire her. There is a lot of stamina involved in dismemberment. It’s very rarely a clean first cut type of job. Takes time and muscle to get through that much bone and tissue. If anything, that woman is ripped.

Stories like that are keeping me afloat. A little. But being with him is better. I think it’s been weeks of him crawling into bed at all kinds of late hours, passing out before his head hits the pillow. I never thought I’d be glad that my husband left the police force but I’m strangely glad that he’s working overtime as a guard. I will put up with missing him if it means he’s safe.

I just wish he was safe at home and I didn’t feel like I was dealing with Heather and Casey all by myself.

Maybe he’ll have a good story for me when he gets home.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe