[right][h2]Jay’s Catharsis [/h2]
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Jay wanted to believe her. But they’d learned how easy it was to say things—and how little that proved.

“Hi, my name is Jay.”

No one said [i]Hi Jay[/i]. This was either not that kind of meeting, or the internet was lagging again. Jay decided not to wait around to find out which.

“About half a year ago, I had a falling out with some people from a group I’d been part of for over three years.”

They shifted in their seat as they continued. “You’d think six months would be enough to move on. And it has been, for the most part. But some stuff stuck around. New year’s coming, so I thought, why not clear it out? Start fresh.”

In the corner, a digital clock kept counting. Yellow segments, blocky numbers, the colon blinking like a slow heartbeat. The seconds ticked on—:38, :39, :40. The date underneath just sat there.

They’d meant to do this sooner. Weeks ago, even. And here they were, days left, and they still couldn’t line their thoughts up in any sensible order. Looked like the new year was going to get this mess whether it liked it or not.

It occurred to them—somewhere around sentence seven—that they had no idea how any of this was supposed to work. Didn’t even know these people. For all they knew, everyone else here had actual crises, and Jay had just barged in with baggage from six months ago.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to just—” Jay stopped, shook their head. “You already know I’m Jay, so... what are your names?”