I can't seem to think about anything other than wondering where the hell he went. He has been gone since Saturday, and there has been no sign of him. I know that I should not think of him at all, but I can't help it. I want to talk to him, but then again, I'm afraid to be near him.
About that fear of being found out--it is paralyzing. I can see Roberta now, spreading the news like the Black Plague, making sure that everyone on the known Earth would know about my fall from grace. I remember how she cackled about Diana Adams' affair with her young landscaper. It was an affair that, once exposed, ruined Diana's marriage and sent her to divorce court. I never thought that I could fall in the same way, but I did. I want to get it out of my head, but I can't.
P noticed that my mind was somewhere else, as the pasta boiled over and made a mess. I was looking out the window, lost in my daydreams, and dinner was all over the floor! He asked me what was wrong with me, and was more concerned about boiling puddles of water on the tiles. I didn't have an answer. There is not enough time in the day to explain what is wrong with me.
I'm a mess!