Robot wars

 I’m trying the new tactic of becoming a cyborg, just like him. After a while he might realise that something is wrong and perhaps ask (I think putting an arm around me would still be too much at this point).

He completed his run this morning in record time. I sent him a text saying well done, told him well done when he came back and watched a TV programme with him. Mostly in silence, of course. The rest of my time is spent in his office, trying to work, but mostly trying to make sense of why I’m so low. It’s half Seasonal Affective Disorder and half shit-life syndrome. October is never a wonderful month for me. 

So, what am I hoping to achieve? Well, I want him to cry, like before, and tell me why he’s so cold and lifeless towards me. Why, when I know I deserve more, he can’t feel anything more than indifference. What do I think I’ll achieve? Probably not what I’m hoping. This is catastrophic thinking, I know, but I expect that this will just bring us lower, until neither of us understands what’s going on and we’ll break. I’m being destructive, but fuck knows I’ve tried my very hardest for months on end to try and get something out of him. It’s worse than getting blood out of a stone.

I know I’m being destructive because I really want to drink a lot of anything and smoke. I don’t feel like that when I feel safe.