Well Dr. Troy and Dr. McNamara, it’s nothing physical, nothing you can fix with a scalpel and some silicone. No a nip/tuck won’t do. I wish it were that easy.
My conscience is killing me.
For the majority of my four months in Manchester I’ve wanted one thing. I’ve thought about it, dreamed about it, and joked about it. There were times when I thought I could have it and times when having it seemed entirely impossible.
Then, this morning, while doing something rather kind, the opportunity to have it presented itself to me more clearly than the guilt-inducing light of day. But I didn’t doing anything about it. It was mine for the taking, but taking it just seemed all wrong and my motives for wanting it all along were no where to be found.
Where did my mind and my body get lost? Perhaps it has something to do with the winding road with many forks that is my conscience. Or maybe it was all a game. Maybe I’m no better than those guys that chase girls they can’t have simply because they enjoy the challenge. Maybe I never actually wanted it, but just wanted to know that I could have it.
So is there gratification in knowing that I walked away from something potentially very dangerous? Or is there regret and self-loathing in knowing that I played the game and got exactly what I wanted (perhaps at the expense of someone else)?
Browse Timeline
-
clearlii
