Like The River

I may be only 19 years old, but that doesn't mean I am incapable of feeling deeply or inept at hiding what's really on my mind. Has our generation devolved to the point where if what's going on in our lives doesn't show up on your face then it can only mean that we're emotionless robots or guilt-less, heartless sociopaths? Heaven forbid that we can act like emotionally mature adults. So for the love of God, ******, stop asking me if I feel guilty. Regretful. Sad. Angry. You repeat the same questions every day since the moment I told you I fucked up, and I still answer with the same response every. Single. Time. Of course I feel all those things, but that does not mean I'm going to elaborate for you.

Shut up and go away.