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I am drunk. Kind of. But. But, for the first time in a long time I feel like I am going to cry. I am a fucking cliche' of my own design.

Life is sad when even your best friend of nine years is ashamed of you. I guess when you put a girl of good Christian faith between a best friend who drinks too much and swears like someone who doesn't grasp better ajectives, I would choose the girl too.

I have no where else to run anymore.

Everyday, I keep saying it over and over in my head: Creative Non-Fiction Journal, Pittsburgh.

I just don't want to let my family down.

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