This is it. I can’t possibly go any further than this. This is as far as my humble feet will carry me. From now on, I can only break. And I will. I have.

I can’t make sense of what Jacques tells me anymore. One moment all that happened to us is my fault. The next he tells me that I am not to blame for any of it. Tells me that I should improve myself, that I could really move things.

Yet whatever I say seems to be utterly wrong.

The psyche is an interesting little thing. I know, scientifically speaking, that I can no longer have headaches. Yet, whenever someone puts a question before me that I cannot solve, they are very real to me. As real as can be. And as devastating.

Now that Jacques is the way he is and I am – well – me… To blame for most of it… Having to see how he faces destruction in one form or another… I cannot get another word out to him. My voice just denies service. Mails do not work either. A conversation on the phone? No way. Text messages work, sometimes. Usually I have to keep them short, because my hands start shaking soon and I cannot focus on them.

He tells me that there is a lord above and that all of this is a test. However, I don’t believe in god or his benevolence. What I see is Jacques’ suffering and the reality that I cannot do anything about it while at the same time he performs act after act that is so very illogical that I cannot see why he would do them in the first place.

If there was a god above, he would make this stop. Not for my sake, but for that of Jacques’. He deserves better. He deserves the mercy of dying. As much as I hate the thought. Most importantly, he deserves better than me.