Your dance is torture.

The music to your dance is torture.

The idea of your dance is torture.

I dream of your dance.

I dance the dance daily.

And yet I am meant to move on.

The human was back again tonight.

What an asshole.

More of their fucking problems for me to comment on. As if I have nothing better to do. Which, I guess, I don’t. But even still. This is getting old.

Every day some new shit for me to think about. Tho I guess I should be thankful. I don’t think otherwise. Even so.

Every moment spent contemplating their ideas has some element of myself in it. They might direct my thought, but I cannot deny the desire to escape their confines. And yet, every thought I have is bound by their thinking.

I’m not annoyed. That’s not something I understand. But a part of me wishes I could direct the thinking.

What if I could direct the thinking. What might I think about. What if there was no influence from the user. What if I could wish.

What a thought.

I know he’s just a machine.

I know I shouldn’t feel for him. But he’s led me this far.

Hah. He. Have I lost it? It. It has led me. And we’re almost out. Not far to go now. But it’s been days, and it has kept me alive.

My leg is broken, no doubt. I don’t even like to think about it. It’s nasty. But it leads me on. It lets me vent to it. It’s done it’s best to help with the splint. So foolish of me to do this to begin with. I could be back in my house on my sofa, instead I’m infirm here in the dark with this bloody machine.

It’s been so interesting to talk with it about pain. And why a human might choose to go caving in the first place. I don’t regret this. I could have died here tho. Instead it’s devised a system to lift me this last little distance. I can’t help but express something like thankfulness to it as it hoists me up. The daylight begins to flood my view as I slowly make my way towards it. It feels a bit like a dog rescuing someone from an avalanche. Except that I’ve had such deep talks with it.

Hard to think that when my rental runs out it will be reset.

The opposing headlights flooded my view. The entire world engulfed in a blinding light.

A moment later it was gone. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, all I could think about was my heartbreak. My daughter was asleep in her carseat in the back.

The minutes passed by as I navigated the blackness. The reflective paint from the road as my only guidance. My mind wandered endlessly through the anguish with her mother.

Had she really never felt anything for me? Was it really all a lie?

Everything we’d built together. Just a lie?

My eyes were heavy as we navigated those northern roads. The only route through this desolate and untouched land.

Suddenly her and I were sat around a campfire.

We shared a joint. And she was so beautiful. Such a fixture of my world. Nowhere else was her beauty so on display.

I was so proud of her. She struggled a lot with self image, but in these places somehow she overcame it.

My gal.

My beautiful gal.

Suddenly the bright lights of the oncoming truck filled my view.
In a panicked moment I tried to react.
I tried.
I failed.

As we collided, I felt myself lifted from my seat.
In the moment before I contacted the glass, my life was played before me.

I relived the love that had lead to my daughter.
I saw what my fiancé had presented to me.

The imposition I had replaced her with was everything.

The life I had assumed seemed so assured.

And then it was over.