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  67. 3:46 a.m.

I would tell her I love her. How I never thought I could love anything as much as I love her. How she made me furious I only have sixty minutes a day, but also profoundly lucky that I was able to spend some of those precious minutes with her. I would tell her how sorry I was. That no matter if I didn’t want a child, I should have supported her. That no matter how hard it would be for me to give my precious minutes to a baby, I would do it. I would try not to be selfish. Try not to see the baby as a small clock gobbling up my minutes. Try not to think about what would happen when the kid grew older, making him wake up at 3:00 a.m. so he could spend some quality time with his old man. Try not to think about all of his or her life events, successes, and failures I would miss out on. How I would constantly be trying to play catch-up. A bicycle trying to catch an airplane. All because she couldn’t remember to take her birth control.

I shake my head.

How did my thoughts end up there? How could I be so selfish? What is wrong with my brain?

My thoughts are interrupted by a beautiful sight. The sandbar has returned.

I take off in a jog and we cover another mile and a half.

At 3:55 a.m., we stop. By my estimate, we’ve covered close to five miles.

I set Lassie next to the river and we both drink our fill.

Lassie tries to take a step on his front paw, then pulls it back in agony.

“Don’t,” I tell him. “I don’t mind carrying you.” After three days without food, he can’t weigh more than four pounds.

Meow.

I nod. I’m hungry too, buddy.

I hunt for another stick — I had to ditch the first one in order to swat at mosquitos — and find a perfect specimen on the riverbank. It already has the beginnings of a sharp edge and I spend three minutes shaving it on a rock to a finer point, at least sharp enough to spear a fish.

I take off my shoes and socks, roll up my sweats, and wade into a pool of shallow water. The cold water soothes the stinging mosquito bites. A multicolored fish shoots through the shallow pool of clear water and I jab at the river with the stick.

Not even close.

:07

June 24th

Sunrise 3:09 a.m.

I was starving when I fell asleep. There is no word to describe how hungry I am when I wake up.