The sense of gloom stinking out this weekend just won't go away.
I hate having to depend on other teams results but am equally annoyed that I'm so used to it by now.
The best scenario is we go into next week with our fate still in our hands and pray that Goodison becomes a cauldron that pushes this collection of terrible players over the line.
We'll then have to face the real possibility of next season being a copy of this one, but that's a stress for another time.
I think our luck has run out. The gods are playing with us now with that last-minute goal yesterday, giving us more hope...
I was at the Olympiastadion here in Berlin yesterday to watch the relegation six-pointer between Hertha BSC and VfL Bochum. Hertha had to win to have a chance of catching Bochum on goal difference on the last day. Anything else and they were down. A brilliant, tense game where both sides hit the wooodwork in the last five minutes saw them lead 1-0 deep into injury time. 71,000 people were in party mode. Then, with the last corner of the game, Bochum equalised with a free header. Silence. An explosion of joy in the Bochum kurve. Hertha relegated.
In the end, their luck ran out. Like us last season, they stayed up by the skin of their teeth. The invoice arrived yesterday. Ours comes in installments: today, tomorrow, and next Sunday. You sense it's in the post.
And we can't say we didn't deserve it.
In a weird way, I almost envied the Hertha fans on the train back into the city centre. Their ordeal was ending. I saw the news of Mina's goal come through in the crush for the S-Bahn, but by the time Forest won, I felt that at least Hertha fans knew their fate. They would still have been very long shots to survive even if they'd hung on but at least they know now. Us? More hope thanks to Mina. But no win that would have got us to the brink of safety. Instead, the precipice of uncertainty. Agonising.