Why was I running? I pondered that question, but kept on going. No matter how many times I tell myself that it was the right decision, I always come back to this feeling of loss and guilt. I’m not sure if these are my feelings or his.

Why am I even giving him the benefit of personhood? My opinion on him has hardly changed. He can pretend to rebel, and try to gain control. At some point, he will simply need to accept the fact that he is merely an offshoot of me. If he grows too cancerous, I’ll just have to lop him off.

After running several blocks, I finally stopped to catch my breath. The cool air had desiccated my throat, and as I tried to swallow, I cringed in pain. I’m sure he was laughing to himself.

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My main concern is that I am beginning to question my own sanity. Even if he is just a powerful reminder of the importance of sticking to my disciplined schedule, it is troubling. Maybe that’s why I wanted to stay later. It’s strange not knowing why I’m choosing to do something. To have acted so impulsively that my actions preceded my thoughts.

For now, if I can’t purge him, I just need to make sure that he is trapped in whatever sad little room he brought me to. It shouldn’t be hard. The mind is great at repressing things. It will probably be easier to do that here instead of back in my normal life. More of that old structure that made life simpler. Work shouldn’t be a problem either. They have been trying to get me to take a vacation for years.

A few days sober, doing household chores, and reabsorbing what makes me, me. I can make it painful for him. Have him watch as I shrink his space, until it is so small, he can hardly breath. This is exactly what I need.