I wish I had answers. It kills me not knowing how I feel or why I made the decisions I made. I don't know what made me do it, or why I thought it was a good idea. None of this makes sense. I'm a coward. A lowly coward who doesn't care about anyone. It hurts knowing that I am. It hurts knowing what I have done. It hurts that they are dead and that it's my fault. And more than anything, it hurts knowing that they might not be the last.