I am always tortured by the thought that I am a horrible person. But someone once told me that worrying about being a bad person already makes me a good one. Or at least one that's better than how I imagine myself to be.

This blog is a holdout against the influencer era. It's still stuck in the 90s, when blogs were confessional and people wrote more authentically, if not more embarrassingly. 

I mentioned that because obviously I haven't been coming here as often as I used to and keeping it up sometimes feels like a waste of time and money. 

But today I need my own company, and I find myself returning here, where I can be alone.

I don't think I'm ready yet to write about what's torturing me right now. It's about love and its failure to launch, and it's about choosing to make a safe place for myself and not being a bad person to others, and not making the same mistake again. 

It's actually a lot of things that a good person ought to do. So why am I feeling horrible?