I'm afraid of myself, afraid of the innate self-destructiveness. I'm afraid of the black hole in my chest that opens up at night when the hum of the day quiets the street below. I'm afraid of the dread that swirls in my throat when I wake up in the morning. I'm afraid that all of this is my doing, my choice, but that I don't have the courage to drag myself off the battlefield.
I am not the girl I could have been. I am disappointed in all of my unfulfilled dreams, my broken promises. I am sorry. I am sorry, sorry, sorry.
I will strive to fail better, à la Beckett.
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