Michael is, of course, at the heart of those questions. For a moment I was sure Candice had nothing to do with what I feel for Michael. Everyone I know knows that Michael is the only saint I know.
No. I haven’t stopped thinking about him. Dammit. I wish I could.
The completely unsurprising place I have ended up is here, still in charge of myself and everyone else. In writing it I become a God and can say fuck the rest.
What I feel for Michael complicates all that.