'It's not like you're responsible for this,' he says. Except ... I am.
... and I still don't even feel badly. And I can't even bring myself to feel badly about not feeling badly. Ugh.
He's miserable. But I'm happy. And I do what I can for him, whenever I can, and I give him everythng I have, and it makes him feel better, and ... and he hasn't said a single word about the baby in months. And I just can't feel bad, not even when he says something like that.
Maybe ... this is what Destin feels like. Just this ... peace about it. Even when it's something I should -- peace should be the least thing I feel. But the more time goes on, the more I just ... sink under and float away. Maybe it's just like he always says.
We're going to Hell anyways.
Er, Maire, I -- I was wondering. Do you have any updates? On ... the proposal, I mean?