F***ed

I’m really good at messing up. A combination of not thinking before speaking and wanting to be the funniest person in the room. For a long time, it’s how I defined myself. Now, when I’m in the doghouse, I try to remember how long it’s been since my last fuck-up.

I don’t care how manly you are. When your woman doesn’t talk to you, you feel it. Your gut tightens. Head hangs. Shoulders slump.

I need to learn from my mistakes.

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