First entry

Another day at the office. Lunch with Sonya, which was... complicated. She wants to know where this is going. I don't have an answer because I don't know where I want it to go. Away, preferably.

The weather here in Rome is unbearable. 38 degrees and still climbing. Everyone is moving in slow motion, sweating through their shirts by midday. I spent the afternoon at the gym instead of the office. The boss doesn't care; he never does. I'm good at what I do—moving money around, making people richer—and as long as the numbers work, he leaves me alone.

Flavio called me this morning. He's going to the States for vacation next month. He wants me to come. I told him maybe. The truth is I'm bored with everything. The same restaurants, the same woman, the same life that's slowly suffocating me.

There's a woman at the gym. Simona. She teaches Pilates in the late afternoon. She's different from the others. There's something broken about her that appeals to me. Not in a healthy way. In the way that broken things sometimes feel like they match your own brokenness.

I don't know who she is. I've never spoken to her. But I watch her move, and for those forty-five minutes, I feel like there's somewhere else I could be. Someone else I could become.

Sonya thinks I'm sleeping with someone else. I'm not. Not yet. But the fact that she's asking means she knows something has shifted. And she's right. Something has.

I don't love her anymore. If I ever did.

This blog is probably a mistake. I don't know what I'm doing here, writing things down that I would never say out loud. But maybe the point is to have a place where I can be honest about how fundamentally empty I actually am.

Anyway. First entry done. Let's see if I keep this up.