Crisis

Things… aren’t good.

K told me to write. They’ll be here in about 45 minutes… but…

I don’t… I don’t know… I don’t even know where to start.

SB is sleeping. Sir is downstairs.

Things went really badly tonight, with Sir and SB. And… I… Sir isn’t okay. I don’t know if SB is okay… he just finally just fell asleep, so I left him in the bedroom and I went to find Sir and Sir isn’t okay, so I texted K and J but they are in the mountains, they’re coming back to town, but it will take another 45 minutes to get here.

Fuck.

I don’t think I’m okay, either.

I think I’m complicit.

I… don’t think… I can handle that.

I’m having… thoughts… very specific thoughts… and I know that’s a bad sign.