Having jumped - having plummeted - off the River Winter Bridge

I'm not holding up too well. I'd like to think I'm not holding up any worse than during previous returns to London, and am in fact doing comparatively well, but it's hard for me to know whether this is the case. I also don't expect it to get better, despite past experience that would suggest it gets better. It's hard for me to write. I want to sleep all the time, and struggle not to fall asleep during class, movies, meals, or while reading. I have no appetite. I force myself to eat, which perversely makes me look hungry. I hate getting dressed. I hate going to bed at night. Most of all, I hate breakfast.

I don't think he's coming. I'm trying to find ways through it, but I don't think I can get to the happy ending - just game completion. I've never had him here, but now I can't even imagine it, and I don't know what going back means.