Still trying to adjust to life post-Bruce, post-Tanhoger, which has been very, very hard. Sometimes I miss them (or their alter egos) so much I feel like I'm losing my mind--which may just mean admitting I already lost it and will never get it back.
I've gone nowhere, I've done nothing, I've seen no one. I go out for groceries or takeout and I'm convinced everyone recognizes me as Robin, the Failed Superhero. The fuckup who brought Batman's brilliant career to a crashing halt.
I'm still on the Wayne payroll for some reason--it just feels wrong. It's great that Alfred paid my bills and kept up the apartment while I was ... away, but now that I've turned in my mask I should really be looking after myself like a big boy.
I never thought of myself ashaving such a major Daddy thing, but I realize now how big a role that played in drawing me to both men. That's nice: their lives are destroyed, and Little Dickie gains valuable insight into his psyche.
I don't have a clue what I'm going to do from here. I haven't spoken to Janice in months, mainly because I haven't been able to come up with a believable story to explain my dropping off the face of the earth.
That's what I need: a big lie to make everything else make sense.