today is the day where i want nothing more except to go home, watch RENT, and fall asleep. cut out all contact with civilization. there's no dictionary definition to explain the turmoil inside of my stomach, whirlwinding through my mind. the question lingering is who is to blame?
you: to be honest, i want to be to do this, but i'm incapable. even with all of the valid arguments of you were the one who continued to press forward without yet leaving the past behind. i eagerly obliged, but can i say that you should have known better?
me: this is where the blame is always put, most often by myself. even though i was completely aware of the situation at hand i still continued to lead you into a web. "the talking leads to touching, the touching leads to sex. and then there is no mystery left." i was aware of what i was doing, but with the slight hope that the consequences wouldn't be so dire.
desiring for this to be resolved would be a giant leap. i don't know where the fuck to start.
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