I dreamt D left last night– don’t know why, probably reacting to recent news that friends are sick or displaced.

I was in my old house, in the little pink bathroom, crouched below the sink. I put my toothbrush in this plastic cup with a circus dog face molded on the front and felt, more clearly than most times in waking life, a thick blanket of abandonment and futurlessness.

When I woke up and felt D’s back next to me it was warm, moving away from me and close again.