I have this feeling right now, in the pit of my stomach, that everything is my fault. Everything down and down beyond and into the river below and between us. All those days at Best Buy that we "didn't hit budget" were my fault. All the lost socks and the headaches and the messes and AIDS epidemic and the wars and the hate. It all feels like it's my fault.
And I don't understand why. It's as if this feeling is there for no good reason save per chance selfishness?
Let's start on what I want, and things that I can have if I so choose to get off my ass:
1) A girlfriend. I want to be in a relationship. But I don't know how to start one. I don't know how to be a boyfriend. I'm a dick. And dicks don't get boyfriends, they get hairy palms.
I think that's what this guilt stems from: loneliness. I am lonely, I am blue...and unwell. Such petty remarks in the length of the Father!
Of the infinity.
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