Back in the Bay Area. I’m like a ghost sifting through memories trapped in amber. I figure that I’m going to be alone for the rest of my life, but maybe that won’t be for very long. But trust is a prerequisite for love, so that’s clearly not going to happen. Having too much time on my hands is a good way for me to get into trouble. After seven years, the sting is starting to wear off, but it still stings. The less you have, the more you worry you’ll lose it.