You need to write part 3. I’m not convinced that the child is gone! You see, we are twins! Except my child is winning, and your gay male is my drunken whore, your beast is my rational, scientific, logician mind. But I am divided up in a similar tri-fold. sometimes when I catch a glance at myself, I ask, “Who is that middle-aged frump bucket?” I still feel like I’m 18. How did she take root in my house? Then I go back to writing my article on quantum physics and say fuck it. I’m planning on building a Nikola Tesla sex robot anyway because no man can ever meet those standards.