Day One hundred and ninety eight - A realness

First quarter of 2017, I'm coming to grips with the fallout of the Silvia story. Not only because of her, naturally. but also because of everything and everyone else that came before - those I wrote about and those I did not write down a single line but still happened nonetheless - I had begun finding myself... less. Lessened by all this. Not only as a person, but also from what I wanted. I found myself wanting less and less, thus also being contented with less and less. And even that, in its due time, started giving way no not wanting at all. Not wanting, not desiring, not craving, not nothing. I would start feeling like I was emptying myself of, well, me.

On top of this, I started having some health issues : one happened when I hurt my leg one day while jogging, and instead of stopping, and resting, and taking care of it, I kept on running for a few days more, until the day came when I could barely move that leg. I had to go to the hospital and the doctor who saw me stopped short of calling me names when I told him the story. The next few months would see me having to do tretament on that leg, and as a result I stopped going to the gym. It would be a domino effect that would have effects on my health on a number of different levels.

That was the year where I started to drink heavily : what had started as a post-gym ritual I'd do every week, where I'd run a very hot bath, and I'd buy a bottle of red wine to be drank whilst I was soaking in said bath, became an almost daily habit. I started having to drink to get some sleep done. And it felt good, it felt real good, let me tell you. I loved the feeling of inebriation I'd get just as I was about to drift off to speed. Sometimes I'd drink some beer as well, especially in the summer. Much later - and this would have been only during last year - I'd be drinking two or three bottles of wine a night, some days. 

But it was at this junction that I started veering towards all the problems that are now present me to deal with. Everything else, during that time, I just managed on a daily basis. Work was fine, my relationship with my son was good, I had started to, more and more, spend my free time at home, shunning the mobs and throngs. I kept to myself, I was massively into Instagram back then, and interacting with some nice people I'd met along the way was good enough for me.

I didn't want anything more. I didn't want anything more. And then - because there's always one of those, isn't there? - I up and meet someone. Through Tinder, of all places. So, by now you'll have read about a number of different names. What I can tell you is that this is the last one. After Carina there wasn't anyone else.