My eyes and mind cloud over as the remnants of the alcohol takes over, leaving me the ickiness of the “icky-shuffle” of my brain. It happens time and time again, more frequent now with my tired eyes and tired body.

Old. My body can’t take this shit anymore. Old. I’m getting too old for this shit. I’m getting too old for these late night excursions and drinking drinks of multiple ounces. Just too old for this shit.

I guess it wasn’t the drinks that actually put me over, but more of the combination of many factors that put me over the edge. Just horrible.

Yesterday was a mess day of sickness and queasiness. Just a blah day of the worst kind. Just a blah day of the worst kind.

It’s been a while since I’ve felt that way. The movie didn’t help, nor did the lack of sleep.

It’s just funny how things are. It has to be an age thing or something, because when I was young and the insomniac that I was, I had no problems at all with the 4-5 hours of sleep that I got. Sometimes it was much less. Now, anything less than 5 or 6, I get a grumpy mess of zombie flesh.

My mind just doesn’t work. There’s no focus, there’s no relevant or significant thoughts. All there is is the constant reminder of why I should not be drinking, why I should not be staying up so late, and why I am just old. There is only pain. PAIN.

Just a walking zombie of messed up emotions of pain and pain. There is nothing more as I try to put on my best face and hide my queasiness as I show up at the family dinner. I couldn’t do anything but just sit there and eat and just be quiet in my own little hermit way of antisocialness.

I smile my polite smile when I need to. Ask my polite questions when I need to. Swear off the alcohol when I need to.

I sit there in misery as the young’ins laugh at my pain and my misery. It is LOVE when you know that family can laugh at you and you don’t get pissed. It is love when your family can laugh at you and your pain and your misery.

Because it is only a small insignificant pain. It isn’t anything drastic, life threatening or life changing. It was just a bad hangover. A tired mess of BLAH!

I felt like shit. Words of concern as my uncles and aunts ask about my well being; of why I am not as fun as I use to be. Concerns of why I’m not drinking. Am I quitting? Just a simple “I’m tired” and “I had too much to drink last night” was all I can manage.

It is true.

Actually, I didn’t have that much. Not that much at all. It was a decent night that led to a horrible morning. A disgusting morning of ugh.

Sigh.

Home is what I yearned for. My loving bed that never betrayed me before. My favorite thing in the world when I feel that way. I want to make love to it just by being there, wrapped up in my blankie and just die. And I did.
* * *

It’s raining. It’s been raining for the past week, week and a half. Some of the days were bad, horrible. Just a torrential downpour of precipitation. It even woke me from a deep slumber.

It’s refreshing to see the rain, overcast skies, and just downright feeling of home.

I miss the rain. The lovely sweet softness of falling rain on my head. Tiny rainy drops that caresses you in the tantalizing shower.

I just can’t believe why anyone would not like the rain. It cleanses the soul. It cleanses everything that it touches, making it new and refreshed.

It just changes the landscape and the people a little bit. None of this rushed impatience that I’m so use to down here. Everything is at a crawl with the eerie emptiness because not that many people like to go out in the rain.

Just a refreshing mess of love that I enjoy when it appears here in the land of the SoCal sun. It’s a change of pace, a pace that reminds me of home. A slowed pace of relaxed laid-backness of just so whatever.

It’s rain. RAIN. I love the rain.

Jumping up and down in a puddle as the rain just pounds and pounds and pounds you from atop the sky.

Where do you go? What do you do?

Life is just an unblended emptiness that is slowly filled with the constant ticking of your heart that matches the rhythmic ticking of the proverbial universal clock that we do not see but feel through experience.

It is blank the second before and the second before that and will slowly come painted as is, in full Technicolor with each tick and tock.

Life is just a funny funny little thing.

I never appreciated it before. I always harped on the negative, being so critical and analytical that I am. All aspects of my life is constantly dissected in my mind, turned, prodded, poked, and dissected some more.

I live a life full in the past, always thinking of the what-ifs possibilities that I can never relive and never rechoose my choices; living with the regrets of poor decisions that I’ve made time and time again.

But as always, life is all about experience. It is all about going through the motions, going through the actions, and seeing for oneself how things are to gain that valuable life-experience of “being there” “doing that” so you can say that you’ve “been there, done that” and you can move on and not look at it anymore.

Live and die. Love and hate. There shouldn’t be any regrets and there shouldn’t be any self-pity and loathing on your part because any choices that you made or missed opportunities that may arise is all because you chose at that time with the information that you were given. Making the snap decisions of life that everyone does time and time again. There’s no time to think about the choices you made at that moment. That time comes after you make those choices and you struggle with the idea whether it is a good choice or not. Is it a good choice?

Should I stay or should I go?

I don’t know. That is the big question. That is the big question that is hanging over my head right now. Should I stay or should I go? Again, I can’t base this decision on anyone, no one. It has to come from me. I have to come to this decision on my own and I have to live and die by this decision.

Moving home. That’s big. That’s huge. I never thought that 2008 is going to be so full of changes. New job for sure. Possibly a new/old home? Who knows? It’s all up in the air. Am I scared, frightened about my future?

If I say that I’m not, that’s a lie. I am scared, a little frightened about where my life is going to end up after the year. Fuck, by the middle of the year. Where am I going to be?

As the time flies by, and the more I think about it, the inkling feeling that I should move home is gnawing in my skull, my brain, my heart, and it’s becoming such a prominent thought in my head that I can’t shake it anymore. I can’t think about it too much, because it will just blind my decisions, coming up with “reasons” for me to move back, to comfort me. I can’t do that. I can only make the snap, thin-sliced decisions, that I am so used to.

Go by my gut, go by my instincts.

Now I’m not saying that my gut is the Golden Compass that is never wrong. Fuck, that is not the case. I have made some bad decisions in my life based on my gut, but overall, I do trust it. I’m still trying to learn from my gut, what to actually believe and what to dismiss. It’s not easy, because that sinking feeling in your gut just sits there and then the rational part of your brain steps in and makes you step back and rethink things. It reins in the impulses that I usually have, to make my decisions based on feelings and emotions.

What should I do? Where should I go?

Don’t think about it too much and just let things happen. You know what you want to do when that time comes. I’m just needlessly stressing myself out, creating doubt that I can’t afford to have because my small tiny brain is full already with things that I do need to think about.

I broke the news to the rest of my family today that I’m going to move back…sooner or later and that there’s a possibility that it might be sooner. March is my deadline.

It was set by Cat, but again, I can’t rely on her. I have to come up with my own decision to stay or go independently of her. She doesn’t even know where she’s going to go yet. I can’t rely on that.

I can’t read it. I can’t read us. I can’t read what this is going to be. There’s this reason of doubt that it is going to last, because most likely it won’t. It just can’t. There’s just too much there that is so unknown. But there is that fucking optimism again. It’s just there too, thinking that it all might work out for the best. That there might be a happy happy in there. Whether there is a ever after, “HA!” is all I can say to that.

I don’t know what my future brings. I don’t know what it will be like if I do manage to move home.

All I know is that I’m old. I feel old. I have always felt old, have been old. I’m just an old wise sage. Will I find a job that supports myself and my dog up in Washington? Where will I live?

All I know for a fact right now if I do manage to move home, I can’t live with anyone. I will be on my own, in my own house or apartment with my dog. That’s what is important to me right now. My independence, my freedom to do whatever I please with whoever I please when I please without any watching critical eyes of family.

How far away from family, my mom, will I be? Who knows?

I don’t know, I guess for me, with my old age, I’m finally thinking that I am ready to settle down, maybe start a family if I am ever fortunate enough to find that girl. Who knows about me? Who knows right?

Will I have an outlet to make friends up in Washington? Will I have an outlet to be social? Will I be the social hub or will I just do whatever I please and hang with myself like I usually do?

I don’t know anything anymore.

How about the writing? What is going to happen there? Will I abandon it like my abandoned scripts and projects? What am I to do, because I moved down here partly for that? Will I just give up on my dreams of being the Director/Writer so easily without a fight?

Does me moving back mean that I have resigned my dreams and admit defeat that I will never be what I try to make myself out to be?

I don’t know. It is sad to think that. Really sad.

But I did try. I made an effort, and I guess hopefully I will continue with it, albeit slowly, but I will continue with it. Going at my own pace. Doing it on my own whim and will.

How hard is my life going to be when I move up? Will I have to battle the bouts of depression because of the lack of Sun in the Northwest? Will I have no friends? I don’t know. It’s just there and open and a little scary to think that my whole life will get uprooted again and I will have nothing and start fresh again.

In a way, it is refreshing, but in another way, downright fucking frightening. I mean, c’mon dude. DUDE!

As I’m getting older, I just have this nesting feeling, this nesting sensation. I want to just make a nest in my own home, with my current son Pickles, and maybe start a family of my own. Maybe not. I don’t know what cards I’ll get in the future on that front. I guess I just don’t know what my life brings, but I do know that I want to nest, to just settle down and start a family.

I can’t imagine doing that down here. Things are just so expensive. Very very expensive. I can’t afford my own place. If I do manage to find someone and get married, what about children? Can I raise a kid down here with the exorbant cost of living? The spendy small houses with non-existent yards? Can I?

I don’t know. The lifestyle and the people here is just so different from how I grew up. Material things matter more down here than just downright genuine sincerity and good people. Where are all the good people at?

Sigh! That’s all I can do about my life right now. Sigh!

Maybe I’m I just need a change to reinvigorate my life right now. Maybe a new job will help. Maybe being in a new city will help. Maybe new friends will help. New hobbies. Just new things. Just different things. Just a different lifestyle. I don’t know.

Just a lot of things cloud my mind as I don’t know what I want to do. The constant indecisions that just make up my life. That’s what I am, a thinking machine of “I don’t know”. I don’t know. Indeed.

There’s a change in the air. There’s a certain sinking feeling that I pretty much have to start making tough decisions in my life and I’m not sure if I’m ready to make them.

A large part of me feels, believes that I am truly ready to make these decisions. These decisions will help guide me in the right direction in my life. The direction of finally settling down and being the adult that I know I am destined to be. But am I truly not sure how I can handle these decisions.

These thoughts and choices are just clouding my head as my deadline approaches. Things are just so up in the air right now with my life that I’m not sure what I want.

I can’t count on anything to make my decisions but myself.

I think the thing is that I can’t really decide on which way to go. Life is so uncertain. Life is just so blank right now; I can’t see anything but what is right here, right now. The future is too clouded with “what ifs” that I can’t base anything on that. I just have to wait and see how things play out.

I don’t know, it just seems that there are quite a bit of signs that are leading me to think that a huge change is about to happen, or need to happen.

I don’t know how big of a change this is going to be, but it is going to be huge.

I just need to really decide on what I want. It just seems that I never know what I want until it is time for me to decide. I live and die by my decisions. No regrets. Live and die.

Change. Moving. Signs. It’s just everywhere. Everyone I know seems to be going through a huge change this year. It’s just weird. Really really weird.

I’m not going to say that I’m going back to my old ways of seeing signs and interpreting them the way I want to see them. I can’t. That’s just too arbitrary, but it does happen. It happens a lot. It’s just too much of a coincidence that this must happen. Just too much of a coincidence.

My life is going to change a lot this year. Tons. I can already feel it already. I’ll be losing friends because they’ll be moving away. I’ll be losing loved ones, because it just happens to be that way. Life is life. We lose things. It just happens and I can’t do anything about it. Nothing at all.

It happens.

Scott and Rutledge are moving back to South Carolina later in the year. I’m not sure when, but they are. I love them. They truly are great people and they are one of the biggest influences in my life to be who I am today. They were my outlet to be social. They helped me feel comfortable in socializing, which I never did before. They were a huge part of my growing process to love and accept myself.

It’s just going to be strange that eventually, we won’t be hanging out anymore. Whether I make that decision or not, eventually, we’ll never hang out again.

I knew for a while that Yen will eventually move back. She misses home and family. She’s the type of girl that likes to be around family. I don’t blame her. I just didn’t know when she’s going to move back. Even now, I don’t know when she’s moving back. I’ve been telling her to do it for a while, but with her grandmother’s death, I thought she would be going back sooner. She hasn’t made up her mind yet on when, but she knows for sure that she is most definitely moving back. She’s just not ready to do it yet. I don’t blame her. It’s too new, too fresh. She needs to take her time on this. She can’t rush on this decision. She has to wait, get a clear head, think it through and then make that decision when she’s ready to. She can’t force herself to make this decision. It comes naturally.

Change. It’s coming hard and it’s coming fast. Am I ready?

I don’t know.

A friend of mine just recently broke up with her boyfriend, who came from the Pacific Northwest. They’ve been together for about the past two years or so. They just broke up because they are just too different. They want to do and like different things, and things just weren’t working out.

He doesn’t like it here in LA. There’s a chance that he’ll move back to the Pacific Northwest. But, I don’t know if it is going to happen. I don’t know at all.

It just seems a lot of my social outlets have been changing. They are moving away, doing their own thing, changing their lives. And in a way, I’m just being left behind. I really don’t mind since I really do move at my own pace. Slow and comfortable.

Jun is having another baby. She seems excited. Her life is coming together, slowly but surely, it’s coming together. She’s getting the job that she wanted and working on another degree that will get her better things. Her life is coming together. She and David are thinking of buying a house. I’m guessing they are going to move out to Rancho Cucamonga. It’s the really the only place that is affordable, but fucker is far far away. It’s not like I hang out with her at all, but this will most definitely mean that we won’t hang out ever again.

I’m too good for the IE, the Inland Empire. It’s just not for me. Nothing is really out there. Nothing at all.

Changes. It’s happening. I can see it happening, and I’m doing what I always do. Sitting and waiting, taking in everything before I can make an informed decision. I have to evaluate all the different choices that I have and how it may or may not impact my life. Lots of things are just bouncing in my head and I can’t come to a conclusion. I just can’t. I have to detach myself a little bit more and look at the whole picture.

Lots of changes and people leaving. It’s frightening. What am I to do?

Cat is leaving. She is, so she says, so she thinks. She just doesn’t know where she wants to go. Seattle. Colorado. Guam. My decision needs to come separate from hers. I can’t weigh my choices on her choices. I can’t count on her, I can’t count on that. That would be a brash thing to do, a brash choice to make, basing everything on her. She has her own life to live and I can’t make that choice for her and I can’t base my choice on hers. I just can’t. Wherever she decides to move to, good for her.

I have two options and those are the ones that I need to focus on. Those are the ones that I need to think about and separate it from her.

For a long time, this thought was always in the back of my mind. It never never seriously thought about it. It just wasn’t for me. I always knew that home will always be there, for me to fall back on if the “shit hits the fan” so to speak for me down here. I never seriously thought of it as a option for me.

I just know that when my time comes for me to move back, I will do that. I just never knew when. It was only a fall back option for me. I never seriously entertained the thought of doing it. It just doesn’t happen, but it did.

I guess it was Thanksgiving with the bonding with my mom that made me rethink the whole thing. Cat’s decision or thought of moving to Seattle may have played a part, but it really didn’t. Being home for Christmas really did open my eyes and allow me to see what can actually happen. It feels good. Really good to be back home.

I just don’t know if it will or can happen. When? I just don’t know.

There are a lot of things to think about and consider. Tons upon tons.

I have to think of my family and what they think. I know my mom always wanted me to move back. It’s her wish for me to move back. Seems like every time I see her, she’ll bring it up.

I don’t know what Hien thinks or feels about me moving back. I’m not sure if he likes the idea or not. Maybe he likes it up there, on his own, doing his own thing. Maybe I’ll cramp his style. I don’t know what he thinks. But, I can’t consider his feelings or others. I have to only think of myself and come to that conclusion on my own. I have to do my own thing. I can’t count on anyone else. I just can’t.

But I know for sure, change is in the air and it is going to come. I just don’t know how it will play out. I just don’t know. And it is the not knowing that frightens me but excites me at the same time.

2008 will be the year of big decisions and the year I grow up and be an adult and make adult decisions and begin my life as an adult.

Tons of choices to make. Serious choices that affects a lot of people. My decisions here and now will affect a lot of people in the future and I can only hope that it is the right decision. If it is not, then c’est la vie, I’ll have to deal with it.

Life.

What a fucked up thing.

I don’t exactly know when I just lost my absolute trust of people. I don’t know when or why I don’t trust most people anymore.

Sure if you are family, I have no reason not to trust you. Sure if you are a good friend, I have no reason not to trust you. For the most part, I trust my family. For the most part, I trust my friends, some of them, on different things. With Scott, I trust him completely, with my life. With others, not so much.

I just don’t know why I have problems with trust. For the past couple of years it has been a huge problem of mine. Huge. My lack of trust, or the constant nagging and doubt because of something that I can’t understand or I don’t know.

I think it is not a matter of trust but more of the matter of not understanding, not knowing, and for me that is frustrating. Very very frustrating.

She told me it was over, over over. I had no reason to not trust her. No reason at all. I don’t know her well enough to not trust her. She gave me no reason to not trust her. Well, there were some things that created doubt, but that’s me.

When I have doubt and certain things happen, and given enough time, my gut starts acting up. It starts nagging. Red Alert. Red Alert. Abort. Abort. I start to go crazy. My head turns into a circus entertaining ideas from everywhere, imagining things and scenarios that back up my little doubts and not knowing. It kills me. It absolutely kills me.

My problem. My issue. Trust.

She tells me it’s over. She was really tired. I could understand. I should have seen, but I heard other things. My brained, gut, and intuition all processed something else. It processed something totally different. Images ran in my head. Ideas start to flicker out of the ashes and start to flame up, and soon I’m just consumed in all of these thoughts that hold no truth. They only hold truth in my mind, in my head, and we all know that the mind can psych us out. Mind Fucks.

That was it. That was that. My doubts. My frustrations. My lack of trust.

When did I become this way?

Is my pessimism still there, thinking on nothing but the negative. I thought I gave her the benefit of the doubt, but obviously I didn’t because I automatically jumped to conclusions. I jumped, leaped, sky dived to these conclusions. And I had no right.

My imagination took over because of snippets of information and knowledge that she told me or that I gathered or that I put together. Put everything together, they aren’t concrete. Not enough to make snap judgments.

Sure I was upset about it. Sure I’m upset about what happened, my insecurities, the whole situation and miscommunication. I fucked up. I fucked up royally, but it’s done, and all I can hope is that we can pick things back up and start again.

I don’t know, I just got a feeling that you were hiding something from me. I don’t know what it is and I can only put the pieces together with my own thoughts, my own insecurities and from what you gave me. I put things together wrongly this time and made the wrong assumptions.

I should have trusted you that you were tired. I should have. I shouldn’t have assumed that the call that you got when you were calling me was him. I shouldn’t have assumed that he talked you into making plans with him after you had dinner with me and that for some reason you went along with it. I shouldn’t have read too much in your tone after you called me back and that slip in your speech was you holding back your emotions and your tears because you are lying to me. I shouldn’t have assumed that. I shouldn’t have assumed it at all. I have no right. I shouldn’t have read too much into the change of plans that you made and really accepted what you told me as fact, that you were tired and you wanted to sleep.

I should have trusted you. I should have, but I didn’t. Thoughts rage in my head. RAGE. Out of control. Gone. Gone. Gone.

On the phone last night, clearing the air, it was just a bad time to talk to me. I was letting my emotions and my heart lead the conversation and that is bad. I was upset at the time, not thinking clearly, not at all. I couldn’t do anything about it. Nothing at all. I was just pissed and disappointed.

I wanted to be there with you. I wanted to actually spend New Year’s Eve with someone I genuinely cared for that way. But it didn’t happen. You were going to pass out on me again. I bore you that much. But you were tired. Really tired, and I should have seen. You made me dinner. You. I should have seen that you were tired.

I’m blind and dumb. I just couldn’t see. I only see what is in front of me and what my mind tells me to see. Sometimes that is never accurate. Doubt clouds my vision and mutates it into something that isn’t there.

I don’t know how I got this way. I really don’t. I don’t know if I was ever like this before Star.

A part of me thinks that I was. I would pick up little things that go against things that people will tell me, contradicting things, and I just catch it. Something is not right. Some people I can read, other’s I just can’t. I can let some things slide with some people, because I really don’t care about thing. Sometimes, I just can’t let it slide, because my heart is involved and I really care for them.

I just don’t want to get hurt again. I just don’t want to get my heart torn out and stomped on. It’s been through that time and time again. Fun times. It’s done having fun times, and just wants good times. Serious times. I don’t think I have the strength to put the pieces back to together anymore, and I don’t even understand why I just feel so protective of my heart. It’s really not like I’ve ever truly fallen in love. Just crushes here and there. But to me, they were big, they were real, and my heart can take no more heartache.

Thinking back I guess I can pinpoint the start of this. It all boils down to one person, one relationship. One act of betrayal that just left me even more cynical, even more jaded, even bitterer. BITTER.

The twinkle twinkle that was Star.

She royally fucked me over. To her defense, I should have known and I should have ended things on my own. I was just too naive and much too green to realize it at that time.

We never defined what the relationship was to be. We kept it open, because that is what she wanted and it was my first. But, again, I never kept it open. It was just her for me, while she shopped around and kept her fuck buddies. For a while we would just spend our weekends together, with me spending the night and such.

One day, she told me about a guy that contacted her on myspace. She tells me he’s nobody, just a Asian guy with a thing for White girls. He had his friend talk him up. Cute. Yes. Anywho, he was nothing. Nothing, so she tells me.

I was a fool to believe. I believed her.

On my ritual drive up to Fresno for Thanksgiving, I thought I’d surprise her. I stopped by her place to give her a rose. I called to make sure she was there, and I stopped by. She was with the kids at that time.

She did something that I thought weird. She met me downstairs. She met me outside with open arms, a hug, and a few smooches. Sweet, but I should have known better.

She tells me the guy that contacted her from myspace was in her apartment. See, for any other guy, red flags should be going. Fucking warning sirens should be blaring out and punishing your ear drums.

Stupid ‘ol me was, all right.

And there he was. The dude. The dude that means nothing to her. The dude.

We chatted, did our thing and I give her my rose. I looked at her bathroom and she has flowers there. Not from me. From her “others” I’m sure, but it’s from this dude. This dude.
[
I left and thought nothing of it. I left and thought nothing of it. We talked throughout the break and the time I was in Fresno like nothing happened. We talked.

Since then I felt her pulling away. Drifting away. The weekend before my company’s Christmas party, we went shopping for clothes to wear. I was tired, because she knows that I have problems sleeping over at her place. Just not my bed. While I took a nap, she was outside, doing something. Making a new mixed cd. She tells me it is for me, but I don’t know. I trust her. I was blinded. Not because she was beautiful, not because I liked her, not because she was my first for everything. I was blinded because I was too trusting and too naive.

The Friday before the she was out clubbing with a friend. I thought it was a girlfriend, but I didn’t know. I went out to play poker with my circle and that was that. I picked her up late Saturday and she was tired. Up all night, partying and what not. I looked at her bathroom and there was another bouquet. Not from me.

Again, I should have known. I should have let it go because we are in a open relationship. Only dating and nothing more. But, I can’t. It was my first. I didn’t know the rules and ultimately I am just too nice.

We drove by a restaurant and she told me that she and her friend had lunch there this morning. So this friend stayed the night. He would call later too, but I didn’t know. She told me it was her fuck buddy. Life went on in my little head. Nothing was wrong. Nothing was out of the ordinary.

Got to the hotel room early and we started to mess around. She didn’t want to do anything, because she was too tired. She stayed up late. C’mon, it made sense to me. She was out partying, living it up. That’s it.

So I let it pass.

I think a few days went by. I got my place and was in the process of moving my small stuff over to the apartment and I called her. I told her I was happy that I got a bigger place. She could come over anytime.

There she told me. We weren’t a match. She didn’t tell me she found someone. She just told me that we weren’t a “right fit”. I was pissed. Upset. Betrayed. I knew better. My gut was telling me something. Something was wrong. All the signs were there, blatantly in my face. I just ignored them and took them at face value for what they were. I trusted her. That was my fault. I trusted her.

She cried and cried. I didn’t understand why she was the one that was crying. She’s the one that was ending things with me. I was the rebound. I should have known better. She used me to make herself feel better about her last relationship. She used me because I was a nice guy. I made her feel better about herself.

Being used FUCKING SUCKS.

I had my suspicions as who this guy was. I checked her myspace page and sure enough, it was him. I knew. I just knew. My gut was right all along. I knew.

I lost my trust. I lost everything. I didn’t want to be in that again. It wasn’t that I was heartbroken and that we broke up. No, it wasn’t that, because I know I would have done it sooner or later. It was just that she strung me along, used me, and never told me. I was so nice and naive, she used me. She LIED to me. I don’t appreciate being lied to.

I don’t appreciate being LIED to. I hate being lied to because I will never lie to anyone when it comes to things like this, because I know better. It’s just not me. She fucked me over. I can never trust again. I can’t. I trusted her and I got killed, heart shattered and grasping for my last breathes.

I never imagined that it would happen. I never did. Fuck me for being fucking naive. Fuck me.

It was my fault. All my fault.