Where Demons Tread

Dear Friend,

“I find it to be unfair that we have both in the past felt compelled to censor ourselves in order to retain what meager rations hinting at the faintest specks of love that we were portioned.

Yet, our endurance and fortitude against great challenges where weaker wills would have perished speaks well of us – and it is to be hoped that we have now deserved to receive much better treatments.”

Alex (An Ideal)

Dear Alex,

“It seems silly to say this, but at least I know it wasn’t my fault that when I’d literally lift a finger, my eyes and brain kept trying to short out.

This is why I could not continue attempting piano and guitar, and why the pressure of survival pinging would not release to let me return to prior editing.

I’ve been having a hard time not getting a complex about these inabilities.”

Alex (An Ideal)

Dear Alex,

“I’m frightened.

The MRI shows I likely need intervention surgery, asap.

I find out more tomorrow.

It isn’t something that I can fix on my own, and is getting worse too rapidly.

I wish I was wrong about this.

I hope it is better than this.

But it seems pretty obvious my life is at risk.

Maybe there’s another way to interpret this.

I’ve worked hard to keep my grip from slipping.

I don’t know how I can control this fall.”