If I had not met Plotar, I somehow would have become involved with Nala and it would have turned out this way anyway. No matter how many paths, all of them converge into this weary, stately, dangerous tread which I am now taking toward confrontation. I must believe this. I must believe in inevitability. I must believe that what has happened would have happened in any case.
For if not—if it were the coincidence of Plotar, catastrophe of confrontation, incision of confession to the therapist—if it were these and only these events which destroyed my confidence in the life I had created . . . if this indeed is true then I do not think that I could bear it and would truly go insane.