I hate this essay. I like poetry, but I don't like to have to mine poems for comparisons to other poems. I'd much rather write a film review. Can I write a film review?

No.

I'd also much rather eat.

Which I'm trying to avoid today.

Unsuccessfully.

This is now night #6 with YT and now what do I do? I panic, and think we're getting far to involved, far too fast, and then I panic because I think I've hurt him by telling him the truth about things, (I told him about The Other One) but he says he's fine. Should I believe him? I feel like an asshole now, but I tried my best to reassure him again afterwards. The fact that I care about his feelings has ruined my attempt at being the man in this situation. I knew I couldn't do it. He's just SO SWEET.

What do I do. Why do I sabotage everything? I am a veteran fault finder, yet I expect people to either not find fault with me, or accept the fault as part of me. I need to give what I take. I'm so damned selfish. What kind of fish are you? A sel-fish.

YT and I are going to IKEA on Saturday morning. Extrapolate what you like from that...

Now, about that essay.