I’m feeling like an idiot right now. I wonder how I have this talent of spoiling every beautiful thing that comes my way. It is a talent, really. Not everyone can do this, mess up everything and then feel guilty about it, try to fix it and then make it worse still.
It is at times like these that I miss being a child, when things were simple; when white was white and black was black.
There is nothing I can do to undo what has been done. I guess I can be more careful in the future. That is, presuming that there is still a future left – between me and him.