No, not a reference to David Eddings' Belgariad book five, apart from that it is useful alliteration.
Casablanca is in the final gambit of things in her current situation. She is in arrears on the mortgage, the bank has issued a writ, the ex husband has offered to take on board the house and to basically let her walk away debt free. But with an added portion of getting custody of the children.
Hashtag what a fucking mess.
She might have to be out of the house within the next two weeks,whether it is option A with the bank, or option B with her ex. And she needs me. And I am torn, between the person I was two years ago, and the person I am now.
It's too late, it's far too late. If I were logical, I would walk away.
But. I'm not Vulcan. Dammit.
She hasn't changed, she...
Fuck, it's all too hard.
I mean, I have given up on the relationship hopes, a long time ago in a holocaust of emotion and hurt and pain (and not the good pain). The friendship, the grudging friendship is still there, and that's what I would also ditch if I were logic.
I'll sleep on it. Well, not specifically the situation above, but I'm too tired to make any sort of sense about big life decisions. Or even little ones.
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