Guilt

The song came on the radio, suddenly, abruptly, hitting my heart like a freight train. The Script's Breakeven. I could hear the singer's pain, his heartbreak from unrequited love, his lover leaving him, and the guilt crept upon me, choking me.

I knew this was what she felt like whenever she heard it, the one the song was about. I could tell that the first time she heard it on the radio, she knew that it was written about her, about what she did to him. She must have felt her guilt like a brand across her chest, searing, burning. Like I did.

I wondered how many mornings I would wake up feeling like a boulder was laid across my chest, how long the guilt would eat away at me. Perhaps it would leave nothing behind, only an empty shell, devoid of everything, even the guilt. Especially the guilt. Maybe then it would finally get better.