Exhausted, and in the clitter-clatter between thoughts I am more regretful than he knows. This may or may not be speaking from the rational heart, but sometimes I think that no one deserves to be with me (though maybe 'inflicted with'.) Do a good job of hurting without meaning to--
--and I've always thought that if you hurt people 'without meaning to' it's your own damn fault because you're not trying hard enough not to. In fact, I don't try hard enough not to--what does this say about me? This is an old hamster wheel, though, and I'm one fit little rodent; I loved Patrick. I still did this. (I did that.) (And I am not who I think I am, either.)
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