December 30th, Year 22

What I feared most, has come to pass. Joseph returned. The Corpse startled me as I sat outside my home, looking up at the sky for an extra moon. He was intoxicated, and quickly demanded a kiss. When met with my refusal, he began to bite my neck. I winced in pain, but said nothing. His hands aggressively explored my body over clothes always black, or ill-fitting.

I moved away from him, only to ask if he would go to bed with me. It was his turn to lose the ability to speak. Slowly, we made our way inside. I needed the comfort of my own room, where I felt I could regain a relative amount of control over a situation that seemed meaningless, and dizzying.

I do not know what I want, but I know it isn’t him.

We have quickly made a habit out of spending time together, I told him. And this is a queer affair, considering I never derived any pleasure from your company, I continued. These words, he took like a pill. You swallow it because you must, and you make no complaints.

I cannot say I know The Corpse well, but I know him enough to understand that his anger will never be expressed in words, but through action. He had chased me, and found that I could never be caught. I had learned to take flight long ago, while he is exclusively a terrestrial creature. This fact made him feel more than pain. It thrust the horror of abandonment upon him.

He would not talk the rest of night. But his hands, they pulled at my clothes with such force, and into my body with such pressure. This achieved nothing. It did not lead to a sexual release. It did not rid him of his ire. It only exhausted him into a slumber I would interrupt, because I could not stand him in my bed any longer.

December 30th, Year 22

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