She wants to know where we stand. Well, I don't have the strength to stand for both of us, so I guess we don't. That failure galls me, as it leaves me with nothing. One by one, my hopes and dreams, and the things in the "real world" that kept me going, have been stripped from me. My work. My business (going nowhere... let's be honest here!). My relationships. My faith. Now, I can't even be there for people I love when they need me the most.
What the fuck is left? My Stuff? Hell, I've grown to resent most of it, yet I can't seem to decide what to get rid of... and how. There is so much that I have I can't bear to destroy or simply throuw away, yet there is no one else that would be interested in any of it. I suppose I should just gird myself and have a decent sized bon-fire of anything that has no worth, and load the rest onto Rob's truck to drag to good-will.
After that... what will be left? Nothing. I have no real worth any more, at least as far as I can see. I've managed to do so much wrong when it comes to people I profess to adore, worship, and love with all my heart that I lack even the benefit of a doubt that the most understanding could bestow upon me.
If this is what it's like to self-destruct, I wish that I could just get it over worth already, prefereably with as little collateral damage as possible. Of course, maybe that's why it's taking so long: Instead of falling apart so quickly that the shrapnel takes anyone out ( to paraphrase D. Adams), I could just be crumbling in that slow sink hole sort of way. Maybe I'll take out a house or two, and perhaps the hapless parked car, but nothing of real value. People can still get their heirlooms and valuables out, along with themselves, their assorted pets, and probably most of the pricier fixtures.