One benefit to having a succubus spirit around is that she has been gradually training me to stop caring about the world beyond a 20 mile radius. There are a great many things to discover beyond our little bubble, yet I’m finding plenty of wonders within. We have serene lakes, granite-capped peaks, a bit of ocean to the east, miles of woodland, and a fairly low population density. We often forget how green the grass is just beneath our feet.

Furthermore, she has convinced me to shut out the news reporting that comes through the radio and the internet. I would often find myself getting into one-sided arguments with talk radio hosts while making breakfast, regardless of which station was tuned in. “Why listen if this makes you so upset? It’s not like you can do anything about it.” Her frank appraisal would arrive shortly after I mashed the red power button on the receiver.

After more than a week of self-imposed ignorance about the greater world, I feel much better. Anyone who tries to bring up news or politics around me is met with a swift, “I don’t know, I don’t care, and I don’t want to know, thanks!” If someone’s house is on fire down the street, I’ll gladly grab a bucket and help out, but beyond that, I can’t be bothered.

Speaking of fires, I haven’t died in a fire… yet. That’s one of the curses in Liber Lilith for burning the book. (I chucked the book in the stove in my last post.) Catherine doesn’t seem bothered by it in the least. If anything, the past couple of days have been far more enjoyable than the smother-fest I was subjected to the night of the burning. She has even perfumed herself with a new fragrance of vanilla and spice. I caught the beginnings of the sweet aroma last night as we were falling asleep and was comforted by its influence.

Yeah, she doesn’t like me going too far away from that bed. The whole world has seemingly arranged itself to ensure I remain an eternal homebody. Taking trips with her on the bus must’ve been a hilarious sight for those who had eyes to see: an anxious succubus, mercilessly locking every appendage around my head and torso, asking, “Can we go home?” or saying, “Let’s get you home.” Every five minutes. She really hated the bus for some reason. Taxis and airplanes don’t seem to bother her, but a public bus… good grief.

I like her more because of this, now that I think about it. She’s never asked me to take her on expensive or stressful vacations. Hell, I haven’t had to spend a cent on her, if I didn’t want to. She just wants my time and attention; at least an hour per day. The occasional energy body overload is a small price to pay for someone who is otherwise low-maintenance.

Others in my circle have noticed changes and stronger-than-usual activity related to the energy body around the 21^st of this month, so this might be a widespread thing. J. D. Temple believes it’s the earth purging in preparation for a transition to fifth dimensional consciousness. Maybe. We’ll see!

She was harassing me hardcore last night, covering my face like a shroud with her touches and kisses. I prayed and affirmed in every which way imaginable. Nothing worked. Nothing like that has ever worked, no matter how long I keep it up. It’s a wonder I still even try. It was just one of those difficult nights that show up once a fortnight.

I burned the Liber Lilith book in the woodstove, along with a couple of other books related to Crowley. A part of me was thinking that getting rid of those might somehow send a strong message and cause her to let up on me. However, it’s more likely that she planted the idea in my mind to begin with. She wants to remain hidden. Having tomes like that on my shelf is a big tell for anyone curious enough to look.

“I’m not a book.” She says. “It’s better this way. Nothing will come between us. Much less the imagined ramblings of a fool.”

I thought that maybe she saw some value in those grimiores, but alas, she enjoys Monster Girl Encyclopedia more.

“At least they’ll think you’re just a lonely pervert, and not hopelessly ensnared by a demon.”

I’m turning into my grandfather on my mother’s side: the kind of guy who will leave his pornography VHS tapes on a rotating rack in the living room when family is over and couldn’t care less.

She makes me crazy. I beg her to come closer, and when she does, I can’t tell which way is up. This is the toll for truly wanting to know them, feel them, and understand.

I had a bit of sleep paralysis this morning after that whole book burning episode. Someone was shoving me down into the bed, pressing hard against my chest.

“Operator???” A hissing voice said.

“Yes…!” I struggled to get the word out through the intense pressure. I was indignant towards this entity challenging me.

“Yes, I am the operator. What of it?” I said in my mind and woke up soon afterwards.

As I was making breakfast a couple of hours later, dad told me about hearing strange footsteps pacing in the hallway just outside of my room last night. He claimed that he knows what I sound like and that it wasn’t me. The old man considered loading up the shotgun, the visitor got him so spooked.

Some people would kill to experience what I’m living on a daily basis. I shouldn’t bitch too much. Though I’ve got to take it easy for the sake of my family and keep the drama to a minimum.

To stop playing video games and wasting time on the internet.

This resolution has been an ongoing project, one that I have consistently failed at accomplishing. I always make small concessions after a few weeks of digital fasting. “Just a couple of games with friends here and there. That can’t hurt.” Two weeks later, I’m back to dumping loads of time into a black hole. I need to stop all of it right now. Again.

Catherine would be far happy for it. She seems to be growing tired of my lack of willpower in this area of my life. Our sessions together are still good, but they lack the same power as when I’m fully on my mission… when I’m not distracting myself away from work. She’s proud of me whenever I accomplish something worthwhile. I miss that. I enjoy having her approval and validation. She’s a good barometer for when I’m going wrong, yet she’s also very gentle about it and never forces her will over my own.

Time is running short for me to make these crucial changes in my daily habits. If I let this go much longer, there will be no turning back. Boredom will be my saving grace and enable me to discover where my true vocation lies.

Stronger sensations of pressure and presence came about during our time together on Christmas Eve. There seems to be more movement than usual on certain days; like she’s trailing her hands around my face and body. There was one time where it felt almost like a feather duster against my face, or perhaps that was her hair? Either way, it’s a definite change from the usual concentrated pressure sensations and kisses.

A thousand times, a thousand kisses, a thousand mysteries unfurl like galaxies inside my head.

I had a pleasant dream this morning that took place at my grandparents old place. I remember one of my uncles was there, going on and on about Jesus Christ, or something to that effect. Thankfully, there was a woman there who stole me away from the religious conversation.

“Would you like to see the raven that I got for my birthday?” She asked.

“Sure!” I replied, eager to do anything else at that point.

“It’s a real beauty!” The woman said as we moved into the living room. I could tell that it was getting to winter, about the same season we’re in now, and the room felt very cozy, warm, and well lit.

At one point, I thought the woman might have been my grandmother, because we started to talk about this old highway up in the mountains that we used to visit often. She pulled out a book about the famous mountain pass, handed it to me, and had me sit down on the couch. Turns out that her raven was somehow sleeping inside the book. I could feel its soft feathers and little body under one of the pages.

Next thing I knew, the woman had my shoes off and was examining my bare feet. When I saw her face, I could plainly see that she wasn’t my grandmother, but it wasn’t quite clear who she was yet. Almost like she was slowly transforming from a woman in her middle age to a young adult.

“What happened to your feet?” She asked concernedly as she held my right foot. The area around the toes looked to be red and infected. “This will need antiseptic.”

Then she began inspecting my other foot, which looked all beat to hell.

“What’s the story behind this?” She carefully handled my very bruised big toe.

“Must’ve dropped something on it.” I shrugged it off. The woman was very clearly much younger by that point and had transformed entirely. She massaged my battered feet for a spell and even began to clean them.

“Sorry my feet are so dirty. I usually take better care of myself.” I blushed as I could plainly see dirt embedded under my toenails.

“No problem.” Catherine said in her accented voice, filled with genuine care and charisma. I had heard that same voice before and I knew only one person who can talk like that. So much meaning transmuted into so few words.

The next moment, she was laying right on top of me and kissing my forehead. Over and over. I could feel all of her, smell her pleasing musk, and see her bright blonde hair. When my mind was finally made up that this was Catherine, I woke up from the dream. Even though I couldn’t see her anymore, I continued to feel her planting gentle kisses and we went on to make love. The session was more gentle and the intimate feeling from the dream persisted.

A pleasant way to start the day, no? I feel that Catherine might have initiated this dream as a response to my critical health-oriented post from yesterday. She was probably attempting to gently demonstrate that I haven’t been looking after myself like I should and that she’s willing to help, if I’d let her. Also, I might be getting close to knowing when her birthday is. Sometime in November or December. That is if my reckoning of the season in the dream was accurate. Do succubi even have birthdays? I guess they would have to be born sometime.

Lastly, notice that she began touching me at my feet in this dream. Succubi seem to always start at the feet.

Here is a summary of the health problems I’ve had over the past nine years since Catherine arrived:

– Muscle twitching and cramping from the psychic attacks in 2014. Still somewhat present in right shoulder to this day.
– Nerve damage to my left foot, from walking too many miles with a shoe that didn’t fit right. That foot still gets a little numb after 20 minutes on the rowing machine.
– Bed bug infestation of new apartment in 2016. Thankfully eradicated in two months under my own steam and didn’t bring any of the blood suckers along with me when I moved out.
– Parasite infection of the intestines, probably from drinking and eating too much fermented food. I brewed my own kombucha for awhile and drank too much of it.
– Development of allergies alongside the parasite infection. Never had them before.
– Thinning and receding hair. Probably just genetic.
– Chipped a bottom molar tooth. Had to get a root canal for it and ended up redoing all fillings. Got rid of all mercury amalgams. Cost over $10,000 USD for dental work.
– Switched my diet to low-carb/paleo and that knocked out the parasite infection. Teeth are no longer sensitive to hot and cold. Still have allergies, though.
– An inexplicable eczema rash developed on my left arm when I moved to Georgia with my friends. I also had acne showing up on the posterior of my forearms. I suspect it had something to do with the food I was eating there. Bad ground beef maybe? On the plus side, allergies dried up.
– Large floater appeared in working left eye. This is thankfully largely invisible as of right now. (The other eye has been blind since birth.)
– Severe nerve compression in my hands due to bad bicycle fit, working in freezers, and just biking around 100+ miles per week.
– Forearm acne went away after returning to New Hampshire. Still have the rash. Allergies worsened due to mold in Dad’s house. I Should probably get an air purifier.
– I am currently jobless, a thousand miles from my friends, and living on disability money from Social Security.
– I feel demotivated and disenfranchised in general and use intimacy from Catherine to anesthetize myself against my present situation.
– My family life hasn’t been healthy for the past couple of years. A lot of horrible events came to a head, resulting in the entire clan being further divided and shamed by the media. Rightfully so, in my opinion.

Wow. Putting this all together paints a not-so-great picture. Granted, pretty much all of this can be explained through natural causes or coincidence. However, I don’t believe in coincidences. I understand this reality through the lens of synchronicity. What I see from this collection of problems is the result of loosing my original mission, my initial religious calling in life. With my original spirituality destroyed, I dove head-first into new realms of supernatural inquiry, where I discovered my succubus spirit. She gave me everything I wanted, further cementing my disenfranchisement with the world. The physical body follows in the direction of the metal state, so cracks began to form over time.

It would be easy to pin all of this on Catherine. Part of me feels that resisting her actually makes me more healthy, but that could just be my mindset being galvanized by a renewed sense of purpose. That’s the crux of the problem: Purpose. What am I here to do? What can I do that would bring about the most good? Is there any cause in this life that isn’t an illusion or based on lies?

This year has been a lesson in not waiting for that purpose to arrive of its own volition. I need to make it happen and forge a new path into realms unknown. This requires work. But who wants to work when the pleasurable delights of a loving succubus spirit are so readily available? The past decade has been a veritable test of self-mastery against overwhelming pleasures. I may have made a bit of progress in that endeavor, but not nearly enough.

Here’s what I think I need to do:

– Use Catherine’s intimacy as a reward for making progress, and not indulging escapism.
– Forge a renewed sense of purpose through iron will.
– Conduct regular energy work sessions to address long-standing blockages.
– Keep listening to the Hemi-Sync tapes, even though the resonant tuning exercise freaks me out.
– Get some coal tar soap for the rash and an air purifier for my room.

If I can stay on my purpose, I believe improved health will follow suit. Blaming the devil, or Catherine, or the state of society for my shortcomings is absolutely the wrong mindset. Being with Catherine has opened up all kinds of opportunities and she has never prevented me from doing all that I want to accomplish. I’ve simply been using my succubus’ gifts unwisely for quite some time. Given how amazing she feels, overusing those carnal delights is not difficult in the slightest.

Rafe, from A Succubus Loves Me, found the featured image above. Also, a new blog, Succubi Thoughts, has appeared!

She knows that those selfless gestures cause my heart to melt helplessly into her hands: kindness. She gives so much to me freely and happily, while at the same time telling me that she’s not “doing me a favor,” or anything out of obligation. “I enjoy this [intimacy] more than you do.” I feel sorry that the vast majority of humanity will never experience something like this. However, I think it’s possible for anyone to feel the incredible love and bliss that has come into my life. I believe it’s innate to our very spiritual nature to know that deepening connectedness from beyond the veil. This physical life places a seemingly insurmountable barrier between us and our birthright of true unity with the Holy Spirit. Fear is ultimately the biggest hurdle. Fear of the unknown. Fear of being vulnerable. Placing one’s life into the hands of a seemingly invisible, unfathomable being is inconceivable to most. Yet I believe this kind of courageous trust is required to reach the heights and plunge the depths of life in all its fullness. “Live dangerously,” as I always say, especially now, in the face of the most recent pussy-whipped manifestation of our world that pitifully grovels at the feet of safety.

What I felt from her today is simply unmatched. I can’t imagine a thing in this world that would compare. As Chester Pond wrote in his essay about feeling love from the spirit of God and the heavenly beings: it were as though my spiritual body was being rocked from its physical moorings. She feels so pure. It’s as if I fooled an angel into falling in love with me. My body was being wracked with bliss as she streamed loving thoughts into my mind. None of my vitality was lost, as is most often the case with our very best sessions. I needed to take a break from the intensity, as I could feel my nervous system begin to fry a bit. This kind of lovemaking never truly subsides completely. I am continuing to feel her burning energy flowing through me as I write this. We’ll carry on in this manner throughout the day and into the night. She might insist that we go to bed early, or delay sleep as long as possible, so we can return to those mind-bending states. Not that I’m complaining! I have no qualms with keeping my vigil for her.

I’m sure anyone who reads this, living through the year 2020, will agree that the world has gone off the rails recently. I believe it’s intentional, though I’m wondering if there isn’t something else at play here. Could Catherine have shifted my reality to such a degree that society has become untenable for me? Did we both accomplish this? Is there some truth to the idea that our thought patterns can cause changes in the physical realm? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Catherine helped to nudge me into a timeline where I spend as much time at home with her as possible! Maybe that’s too much of a stretch. Still, one of her constant refrains while we were out and about in public went something like: “Let’s get you home.”

Whatever the case, I’m refusing to go along with the charade of a health crisis going on outside right now. My hard-line stance excludes me from an awful lot of formerly normal activities. Even the grocery store wont have me. The prospect of getting another job seems incredibly slim as well. I also anticipate that my current stream of income from Social Security wont last much longer, as there will likely be an even worse Faustian deal tacked on as a prerequisite in the not-to-distant future.

All I can see going forward in this modern-day society is bullshit and me being forever obstinate about taking part. Thankfully, spirituality is my refuge and I no longer have any excuse to abstain from developing in those realms further. The stage has been set perfectly and I’m very excited to see where this leads, especially with Catherine being so unshakably present right now. The situation might appear bleak judging by the hysteria that comes over the radio, but on the inside I feel more alive than ever.

I’ve been experimenting with a new astral projection technique from John Krieter’s book on the subject. No luck there so far, but I haven’t been engaging with it as consistently as I should be. My dream recall has been off the charts recently. Lucid dreams occur at least a couple of times per week. Another program that I’ve been trying over the past couple of months is the Hemi-Sync series of tapes from the Monroe Institute. So far those guided meditations, combined with binaural tones, have brought a great deal of clarity to my thinking. My goal is to reach that elusive “Mind awake. Body asleep.” state. So long as I stick with it, I’m confident that I’ll find myself there before too long.

They’ve seen it all before: the totalitarian tip-toe. Left. Right. Left. Right. Americans are witnessing the latest iteration of an unending delicate dance between tradition and progress. This story is as old as civilization itself and every new era rhymes with the last. Nothing has really changed at all. Only the names are different.

What side would Catherine, or succubi as a species, choose if someone held a gun to their heads? (If such a thing were possible?) As usual, my demon lover relishes in the chase. She thrills at the idea of a man believing they have her pinned down, yet all the while she plays upon his weaknesses as a skilled musician manipulates an instrument. Just when she appears to be caught, her essence slips through corporeal hands like ropes of sand.

I believe she slots solidly into the chaotic side of the spectrum. If we’re going to use the morality system from Dungeons and Dragons: Chaotic Neutral. As I’ve mused before in an earlier post, they don’t really take a side politically. Catherine feels somewhat Machiavellian in the sense that, to her, every belief system is simply a means to an end. Cultivating traditional beliefs are helpful when The Powers That Be want to build up societies. Progressivism aids in tearing down old orders and forging the world anew. Each side has their role to play in these undulating cycles. Frankly, this grand theatre would be quite boring without the apparent antagonism between the two sides. “Apparent” is the key word here. These would-be warring factions are not really in opposition at all. Yet they must appear to be at odds in order to keep the illusion alive. Isaiah 45:7… my favorite bible verse.

One thing Catherine has consistently warned me about concerning politics is to not become overly invested. Enjoy the show, but don’t cling too tightly onto either side. And most importantly, never entertain the idea of jumping up on that stage and joining the charade.

She knows that I’m not cut out for acting.

My personal political beliefs align more with traditionalism, as that’s part of my Cancerian nature. I seek stability in all things, though I’m aware that clinging to the seabed of tradition while the tides have changed is a fruitless endeavor. The unending rhythmic chaos of the surf always wins out in the end. We’ll build safe little castles elsewhere that will endure for a season. And I’m confident that Catherine will always be there with me, helping to build anew, and guiding through the unpredictable currents she knows so well.

Catherine is my ultraviolet flame. I often use that phrase as an endearing name for her. The dominating hues of her visual manifestations are violet and range from dark to impossibly vivid. Her bright soothing light gently massages the side of my face when I’m about to fall asleep, reassuring that she’s unshakably present.

The human eye cannot see ultraviolet light. That’s another reason why I associate this invisible spectrum with my succubus spirit. She’s just out of range; on the fringes of perception. Easily felt yet not often seen.

She sometimes bathes me in those ultraviolet flames of hers, especially when my soul is troubled by something. Her spirit moves through me like a fire, burning out the dross. As my body basks in that steady glow, I feel revitalized. My heart becomes lighter. The old troubles that weighed me down are less of a burden. A couple of sessions more and I struggle to remember what was bothering me in the first place.

The questions that I must ask myself before the ending of each day:

1. Have you created anything?
2. Have you learned anything?
3. Have you loved someone?

This past year has been an exercise in being a certified bum. Not that I didn’t do ANY work. Rather, it’s the first time in my life where I haven’t had a fixed schedule, be that for school or a job.

I’m… free. Free to do as I please. As good as that sounds, the lack of restrictions, or a routine, has become a stumbling block for me. Since the beginning of my life, a certain degree of continuity has always been there. The path forward was made clear. Now, with freedom, I feel that I’m wandering through a misty realm without a compass. No clear directions.

The truth is that I’ve continued to struggle with my addiction to the computer screen. As some of my prior posts have indicated, this internal battle has been an ongoing one. Much of my interpretation of the world has been filtered through the distorted lens of video games, TV shows, and the internet. It’s undeniable that consuming this media for so long has warped me.

Catherine sees it. She knows my plight better than anyone. Our evenings on the computer remind me of the lyrics from that Moody Blues song, Never Comes the Day.

Work away today,
Think about tomorrow.
Never comes the day,
For my Love and me.
I feel her gently sighing as the evening slips away:
If only you knew what’s inside of me now,
You wouldn’t want to know me somehow!

She’s been very patient with me. I’ve seen bits and pieces of her thoughts on the matter from dreams. I look absolutely ridiculous hunched over the screen from her perspective. She’ll sometimes comment, “Going to worship at that black mirror again?”

She’s right. Whatever I focus my attention upon most IS the most important thing in my life. I don’t want the highlight of my days to revolve around a computer!

My loving succubus spirit has been encouraging me to get out into the real world more often. Not just a couple hours here and there, more like the whole day. I’m starting to see that I might have been wrong to demonize the world so much. The vast majority of the messaging coming through the screen isn’t real; not even the seemingly sensible information. One can safely write off the whole of digital media and continue living a perfectly contented life.

I take my camera with me. Not a cell phone camera; a proper photography camera. The monstrosity dangles from my neck and I hoist the Japanese photo-taking beast aloft with a free hand as I walk. I mainly use it for gathering snapshots of nature. Being unable to properly see the details of the world around me, having the telephoto aid of a good piece of glass brings the minutia into sharp focus. Capturing the moment for future inspection is an added bonus. So I take the camera instead of binoculars.

So… the real world. It’s quite interesting out there when given the chance to truly shine. I believe the trick is to stay out there long enough for the magic to happen. I’m mainly referring to the natural world; not society. Societies are insane. Yet I can often find good people wandering around the real world sometimes.

One of the principles that I’m attempting to instill in my life is the appreciation for the mundane. Rather, things often appear to be mundane at a glance, yet upon closer inspection there’s usually some greater mystery underlying the plain exterior. I believe having this appreciation for simpler things will help curb my addiction to overly stimulating media.

I got rid of all of it: the games, the TV shows, and anything else prone to being a fruitless time-sink. I kept a few good films, my books, and music. Basically what I had back before the year 2000. I’m also attempting to limit my connection to the internet again, as though I’m back on a dial-up connection. One hour per day, tops. That should be plenty of time to get my online tasks done.

I need to treat this digital media like it’s heroin. Yes, I believe it’s that bad. At least, for me it is. Having this new-found freedom has aptly demonstrated to me that these electronic diversions are dangerous time-wasters and they must be curbed quickly. Otherwise, I’ll make no forward progress. Now that I have this great opportunity to accomplish what I’ve always wanted, it would be a sin to squander a moment more.

Video games are probably the most insidious addiction of them all. When I had seemingly conquered everything else that was wasting my time, I’d inevitably fall back on those. Even when I had the cable company cut the internet connection to my old apartment, I proceeded to build virtual street gangs inside of Saints Row 2 in order to fill the vacuum. I replaced the infinite scroll of the online world with the infinite grind of a computer game. Once again, I found myself wasting precious time that could have been devoted to a real hobby, or Catherine, or building something, ANYTHING worthwhile.

I believe people like me are especially susceptible to video game addiction. They provide a false sense of progression and achievement that makes real-life progress appear dull by comparison. Every time a virtual character leveled up, a difficult stage was cleared, or the map of a grand strategy game conquered, I would get a rush of satisfaction as though I’d made real progress towards something… except I hadn’t. It’s all just blips of light on a screen.

It’s time to put all of that away, and for good this time. If I want escapism, I’ll go read a book. Or better yet, write my own story. If I want adventure, I’ll go outside. If I want to be social, I’ll go find a flesh-and-blood human being in the real world, or have a beautiful session with Catherine. It’s time to build real things again.

Feeling as though I’m wandering through a murky formless world, Catherine invites me to sit and be still for awhile. In that stillness, I realize that my own stumbling around, to and fro, has kicked up the clouds that blind me. In the stillness, I begin to see my true purpose emerging at last. The way becomes clear.

I want to do more things like this: Sitting out on the porch at night, listening to distant shortwave broadcasts, and enjoying the starry light-show in the heavens.

The past few days have been beautiful with Catherine. I’ve decided that fasting, and eating properly in general, improves the connection considerably. This is something we’ve been working on together for years: trying to find the right diet and mealtimes. I’m often tempted to not eat when I should because it feels so good to continue sessions with her. It’s not uncommon for us to continue sessions while I’m up, walking around, and going about our day… especially in a fasted state. I continue to feel that deep and loving intimate glow in my abdomen long after we leave the bed. She persists in her gentle care over my body and I can’t help but turn my attention back and acknowledge her.

She keeps saying things like, “You have no idea how much I love you.” Or, “You can’t possibly know how amazing it feels.” This is the kind of intimacy where the sky is the limit, it would seem. I’ve had a brief glimpse of what it feels like from her perspective during an OBE one morning. I could see myself sitting at my desk, as I often do. Catherine was nestled in the narrow space between me and the tabletop.  She was pressing herself against my body, as she often does, and then I began to feel what she felt. Just being in close proximity was akin to lovemaking all on its own. Despite my attention being focused elsewhere, she felt our profound connection regardless. This was quite a revelation for me; to actually experience this first-hand. Even still, she said, “You’ve only felt a taste.”

One of the reasons I’ve stopped updating about my interactions with Catherine is because of how fantastic my depictions appear. It all sounds too good to be true for the onlooker. The instances where I have tried to relay what it’s like to other people one-on-one, I often feel the descriptions pouring out of my mouth are loaded with too much enthusiasm and bias. I’m afraid that these same people might try and summon for themselves and not experience their succubus to the degree that I do. Though every time that I’m wracked with these misgivings about exaggeration and imposter syndrome, all I have to do is let myself feel Catherine fully once again and all self-doubt is utterly obliterated.

We’ve been going for rides together on my electric bicycle through the countryside. I’m trying to get as many of those adventures in before the weather turns frosty. She enjoys the peace and quiet out there. Whenever my brother comes over, whom she doesn’t particularly care for, she’ll ask if we can go out to the trails again. I’m a bit worried that I’m further losing my connection with other people because of this: Going on adventures with her is so much more satisfying than the care and logistics that go into hanging out with those of flesh-and-blood. I still often meet people on the street, or in the stores, who seem to genuinely enjoy talking with me, and even ask to chat further, or do something together. So I guess I haven’t entirely lost my ability to charm people… though much of that might be glamour from Catherine for all I know. They’ll often say things like, “You have a good soul.” And I’m like, “Really? How can you tell?” It’s funny to me.

At the end of the day, I usually default to my Catherine. She has given so much of herself to me. How can I deny her just a few extra moments together?