Telling Myathriri will be hard. Of course it will. It’s never easy when it comes to her/she always hears what you don’t say louder than what you do. You muster up the courage, the bravado, to tell her. You are leaving her behind, because you are afraid – for another you that could be, more than this iteration of a friend you will surely lose.
accept
Yellowburn, shuffled around by modules that won’t obey, flickering in and out. Half-awake, half-sleep, and there is no path to chart aboard your hapless vessel. Sink or swim. Turn back. Give up. I want to. I want to give up. It would be kinder, than this, wouldn’t it? What are you a contingency for, anymore, but to suffer and for time to move on without you?