It was me, I did it. Although she is the exact cause of a major tragedy her concern lies only with cleaning up the mess and moving on. Suddenly I'm feeling a little sick. There has to be a way I can get out of this. I wonder if I can pretend this doesn't exist.
Sure people do it everyday.
You'd be just like the rest of my friends that I don't get butterflies around. Now instead of having little segments of hopelessness, the whole giant thing seems hopeless. This life thing, I really don't understand it or why it is so damned necessary for me to be a part of it. On this side you have the blissful that one good thing after another happens to, and then on my side you have the misery bunch. That could be an acceptable answer, but if it were then there would be no such thing as counseling or anti-depressants.