Guilt.

I am an ordinary person, an ordinary girl. Life gets hard, and gives me shit. Then, there are days when I get difficult and screw up another person's day. And you know what's the worse part? I don't care if I screwed up a stranger's day...I really don't. But it hurts when I tell something horrible to someone that I care so much about. Really, it is an odd feeling. I have been hiding it, but I don't know where it comes from. There's a moment of relief when I let it all out, but I learn to regret it. It is not easy to be honest. But I did it...I am honest now...too bad that it does not fix a damn thing. It does not straighten me up. It does not tell me what to do. It just worries me more and more. This is like a scab that I itch to pick, but every time when I do, it just bleeds and bleeds. I screwed up. I always screw up.