I feel ill. Ill. Physically ill.
Okay, okay, you get it, physically, gravely, ill. Sure. But why am I so affected? Why am I physically affected? I think it has to do more with getting out, making my own way, than it does with him. I need to get some distance from this town, take a step away, and find my own way. Never in a million years would I want to follow him, but I'm jealous. I'm jealous he's off to his new life.
I am sick to my stomach with jealousy. That's it. It's not him, it's the west coast. Just like Boston. Just like anywhere but here.
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