I hate this bath. The water’s too hot. There’s no point. I have no point. I can’t breed. Our only biological purpose. Why bother living? I’m just killing time until I die. Or kill myself. I should kill myself. I miss Merlin. My poor Mer. I can’t believe you were eaten. I’m so sorry. I should have protected you. It’s my fault. I wish I were eaten instead. I wish you were here. I wish I weren’t here. When is this going to end? My head is sweating. Dripping into the bath. Or maybe they’re tears. It doesn’t matter. This water feels good. I could impale myself on top of a tree. A pine tree. Or maybe a redwood. I could fall on top of one. Feel the tip of it pierce my stomach and come out my back. A tree in my empty womb. It would be pretty up there. Falling. It would hurt. I want it to hurt. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. I wish I’d known. Infertile at 35. It’s not fair. I must have done something. I didn’t think I was bad. It’s my fault. I deserve this. I’m a terrible person. There’s no way I could get to the top of a tree. I’d have to be catapulted. Or dropped. They did that in Magnolia. Something about SCUBA diving. And a fire. Someone would have to help me. What am I saying? This is ridiculous. No one would help me. I need to shave my legs. I’m so hairy. I’m a monster. I could run the car with the garage door closed. That’s a better idea. They did that on Six Feet Under. The woman left a note. I hated that show. I was glad when they all died. I wouldn’t leave a note. Who would care? Kids are the only ones to leave a note for, and I don’t have kids. I’ll never have kids. I can’t believe I’ll never have kids. The garage idea is good. Better than the tree. I wonder where I fall on the suicidality scale. Strange that I could evaluate myself right now. That it’s part of my job. That would make an ironic headline. Fucking local news. They do like me at work. But they don’t know me. Who cares. I don’t care. AS knows me. He loves me. I should call AS. I will. I’ll call him now. No. It’s late over there. I don’t want to bother him. I’m probably not suicidal. I don’t know. The garage idea is good. Except for the fumes. I hate gas fumes. I’d have to take pills first. I should get pills. I feel fat. Fat rolls of belly fat. Barren belly fat. I should stop eating. It doesn’t matter. What kind of pills? I wish I could fall on a tree. Nothing’s going to change. This water’s cold. Nothing ever changes. I like the tree idea. I hate this bath. I should get out. There’s nowhere to go. No version of my life that I want to live. I want to die. I want it to end. I want this to end. When will this end?