Not this time
There were moments in the pleasure when I felt a sadness, a loss, a general premonition that this will all be coming to an end. In a sense it is a question of giving up, slightly, a little, thinking I am unlikely to carry on trying to make things better so, thus, things will get worse.
Habits and rituals have such a strong place in lubricating the social, when there has been a gap then the rituals are more noticeable, more notably different to yesterday, or the day before. But some of those rituals are a little bad, ways to avoid the inevitable.
