Pancreatic failure. Chronic.She caught me in the office one day over her lunch hour. “Charlie, got a minute?”“Sure, hon, what’s up?”“I wan... to be at my daughter’s wedding.”“Oh. I see. The doctor thing?”She nodded.“OK. Let’s talk to Princess Pinkie tonight. We’re only a few weeks from graduation. Let’s see how much she loves me. Can you wait that long, or do I need to run us to Vegas this weekend?”“Don’t fuck with me, Charlie. I’m afraid every time I laugh, I lose a week. It’s probably the. My last girlfriend found my clothes and dildo in my travel bag a few months ago. Gave me the third-degree about it, as you might expect. I'd never done anything with another guy but I did admit that I thought about it while I jerked off and that I'd been embellishing my fantasies with dressing in pretty underwear and with fucking myself with dildoes.I told her I'm not gay - I really believe that - it's just harmless fantasy... but she was freaked out and broke up with me.I should have been. He feels the loneliness of such a place quite acutely, while I am a country girl by nature and by choice. I suppose that is where I will desire to live and work once my short film career is over, whatever happens in the meantime between Brad and I. I assume that he does not have a gun in the New York apartment, where I rarely stay unless we have to do publicity. And I do have a hunting rifle, actually three, at my little hideaway cabin in the Sierras. There we do have bears. I am quite a good. It was better than being abused by someone else, I had decided long before. When I got off the bike for the first time it was in the parking lot of a fast food restaurant.After breakfast I put the windbreaker back on and rolled off for home. After my ride I rushed into the warm house. I sat by the fire while my body adjusted to the change in temperature. While I waited I stared at the photograph of Roland. I couldn't even think about him without feeling sad.I put the tablet away and went to the.