That's all I can ask. Why? Why does it have to be my life that always goes wrong?
Things in my house are going to get way more dramatic because of the honesty I said. Details won't be shared, but it's only going to get uglier. I blame myself for what will happen. I hate myself for it.
As a result, Miami most likely will not happen. Of course, it figures Jessica and I figured out where to stay, where to go, the transportation pass to get, etc, 2 hours before this all happened.