Interval

The first time that James managed to con himself into resignation was after the bet.

No Vicodin, no clinic duty. Easy.

Right.

Afterwards, James was more disappointed than shocked when he learnt that House looked upon addiction as a way to manage chronic pain rather than a symptom of the mismanagement of that pain.

Denial is the most predictable human response.

The responsibility that Greg unwittingly put upon him was profoundly overwhelming. He thought about how long they had known each other, how he spent easy hours with Greg in conversation, knew him, knew the limp, the expressions, the mannerisms, knew that the clip on his razor on any given day would reflect his mood, knew the outer layers of this self-involved, acerbic anti-hero so well that he had fooled himself into thinking that there was nothing else to know. But there was evidently something darker, something meaner, something depressingly disconsolate and vehemently self-destructive beneath the familiar façade he was comfortable with.

He realised that he didn't know Greg as well as he had assumed.

And so he temporarily withdrew from his customary existence to reflect.

Should he be feeling guilty? Angry? Anxious? Melancholy? He wished there was an over-the-counter cure to this sort of emotional indecision. In some subconscious attempt to fulfil his emotions, he wore cologne instead of aftershave, cotton instead of polyester. He started preferring decaf, vanilla, skim milk, artificial sweetener, wholegrain. He became a victim of that Martha Stewart-inspired nesting instinct and took to spending long periods of time considering textured wallpapers and environmentally friendly outdoor acrylics, panelled borders, remodelled corbelled ceilings and sliding doors with hand-wrought glass patterns.

The nesting instinct lasted three weeks, in which time he supervised the redecoration of the master bedroom, en suite and kitchen. He nested in order to bring order and some illusion of normalcy to his life, to get away from the emotional responsibility of a rickety friendship, instead focusing on the fiscal responsibilities of tasteful homemaking.

And over time, he became comfortable with shrugging off his concerns, stifling them with needless worrying about his personal post-it note supply and paper clip preferences. He came to the realisation that life was one nexus leading to the next, a circular affair of give and take, push and pull, losing something and finding it around the bend, saying goodbye to someone at nine in front of the bank and making acquaintances with a stranger three hours later over coffee at Starbucks. He applied this logic to his relationship with Greg. He believed that one day his life was going to see the love he gave returned to him with interest. He knew he wouldn't be the last to love Greg. And in that same way, he knew Greg wouldn't be the last to love him. That was the nature of life – transience; loss, recoup, acceptance, regret. Cyclical, harsh and inexorable. You couldn't construct a snowflake house and expect to live like it was winter all year round. Seasons change. People change.