Color drained away in a monochromatic assault upon my perception. The great tragedy lay in the fact that it was my mind mounting the assault. And it isn’t the sadness or the madness which pierces the deepest, it’s the regret. The regret that the inertial nature of all that unhinges a man is not daunted by the knowledge of it’s coming. It need not gather any resolve nor steel itself against resistance because it is like time; it will come whether we will it or not and move on without a thought.

Let’s pick up shortly after I got married.

Words are important. Without them, our lives are nothing more than reflections cast upon walls by firelight, the shadows gagging our impressions of reality, veiling the truth in obscurity and fear.