ALEXANDER
The sense of failure and defeat that has weighed me down for months has made me almost unproductive. I keep to myself most of the time, locked away in my darkened room. The lights stay off. The blinds stay shut. I barely move from the bed unless I have to. The world outside keeps moving, but I feel stuck in a place where time doesn’t matter anymore.
Maggie tries to pull me out of it sometimes. She brings food, knocks on the door, talks through the wood even when I don’t answer. I eat only because of her insistence, not because I want to. It feels wrong to eat when the one person I should be protecting might be starving, or worse.
It’s like the will to live has completely left me.
Even before the birth of my child, I’ve already failed it. That’s something I can’t forgive mysel
