It took less than half a second for me to realize that, as long as I was truly insane now, I might as well enjoy the delusions while they were pleasant.
And it was different because I’d already lost her so many times, so many ways, in my head. And different because she was never really mine to lose. And different because this wasn’t my fault.
I was thinking about how disjointedly time seemed to flow, passing in a blur at times, with single images standing out more clearly than others. And then, at other times, every second was significant, etched in my mind.
