The mornings are hard and cold. And there is the weight of what you could have done. That feeling of should that crunches beneath your feet. And it gets in your joints and it makes you ache.
You don’t want the people you love to suffer. You don’t want the people you love to be scared. You want to just make it go away. The way they have always done for you.
I’m going someplace where it will be sunny and 60 every day. And where the accents are all friendly. And it’ll be easier to feel this fucking helpless. This fucking guilty.