I suppose it’s through phases of bad judgement. That’s the easy answer. The one that I can hold to that will never go away. That answer will never run and hide, abandon me when I need it most. Yet, it does–because every time I go to use it, it has no meaning, falls on deaf ears. What do you do when you are tired of saying I am sorry? Like you are the only fuck up on the planet. I am not the only one, I know that, but out here on this ledge that separates my past from future, the only one I ever wanted to be my wife and me–justa separation. So really, how did I get here?