Day 53: A Personal Pandemic Postmortem

I’m worried about Nina. She wears tension, needs to be coaxed out of it like a turtle from a shell that fits too tightly. The first few times I saw her get worked up, I reckoned she’d calm down after we settled things logically and lovingly. Forty-eight hours later, something else would rattle her. When she’s inclined to freak out, it’s like trying to stifle a geyser. And she hates to suffer alone.

Maybe I ran out of reassurance.

I think the prospect of fatherhood under those particular circumstances scared me numb. I was trying to be rational and responsible. I can get a little clinical in a crisis. I retreat to logic. It’s not the worst response, but it can seem cold.

Oh hell. What can you say when the woman you love would rather turn blue and die than spend another day with you? I hope she’s okay.