Yes, I'm always sorry. But still...

Sometimes I hit send and want to grab the words back. They're already free. So my stomach eats my heart and a billion butterflies, as I wait. I'm not sure what I want. Maybe just a little bit of emotion, just a little something I could use to justify my hurt or just a little something that could hint at what you're thinking...

At the end of the day, I'm sort of a jerk and little more than lonely.