I've said I'm sorry by now, at least once, to just about everyone.
The future is starting to look brighter, and yet all I feel is melancholy and dread with each passing day. Friendships grow more and more distant as I withdraw from the world. I rationalize it when questioned by those concerned, but the truth of the matter is that I'm just too tired to...well, too tired to be. If I could figure it out, I'd resolve the situation. Don't hold your breath. I'm too busy living in the past to figure out the now, much less the road ahead.
It's hard to understand somebody who doesn't want to understand himself.
One day, I'll have it all figured out. I'll find a nice girl, we'll settle down, buy a house with a picket fence and pop out some crotchlings. Of course, eventually we'll get divorced, one of my kids will get arrested for drug use, and the bank will foreclose on my house. Or I'll learn to not be so cynical. My vote is for the former.
