09
I lay in bed, my partner sleeping peacefully besides me. She’s never had any problems getting to sleep. I envy that easiness, that matter-of-factness about her going to bed. She feels no dread. She knows bed means sleep. It’s not something I’ve enjoyed my adult life – but especially now. The tiredness is there. The tiredness is excruciating, weighted in every muscle, heavy in my eyes, and clogged in my head. The tiredness should bully me into sleep. But whatever that last checkpoint is, I never make it. This is sixteen years ago. I’ve ditched Aropax – too abruptly, I learn retrospectively; and following bad medical advice from a psychiatrist…
Two
I lost my best friend early last year. Because of lockdowns, retrenchment, and a jealous ex (although not an ex at the time) we didn’t get to hang out as much in the last few years. When she died, there was this immediate regret about all these missed opportunities, and guilt over choices I made that contributed to that. I’ve lost other people before – one of my earliest memories is my grandfather’s funeral, and kissing his cold cheek at the open-coffin ceremony. I would’ve only been three or four. Some time later, I recall my grandmother, dressed all in black, draped over his grave at the funeral, sobbing uncontrollably,…