I hate days like today, when the wounds are still raw.
I should think about the good things:
Morty's going to be a good dad. I've made the acquaintance of
Mister Rupert Gadling.
My liebling came back briefly.
Mari and El came to visit (though I didn't get to see them).
Good things.
Happy thoughts.
He'd hate that, which makes me want to do it all the more.