Twenty-Five
More notes anyway. Because I’ve gotten used to them.
Day One: Hal is, of course, out of town.
Friends sent me a message. “Out at a special restaurant for a special anniversary.” f*****g yay for them. My last anniversary was spent in hospital. Last major birthday, I hurt all the f*****g time and had to smile to keep everyone happy and it was one of these two who came over the next day because they’d forgotten it and wanted to see me.
Do they have to rub it in? Maybe they do. Maybe this is supposed to keep me happy, like coming over the next day and saying, “I just want a cuppa. Don’t go to any trouble,” when even standing up and walking over to the damned kettle hurt. Maybe knowing I’m alone tonight and that I hurt makes them feel extra special about their f*****g day.
Exce
