“I know why. Of course I do. I screwed up so badly. You think I don’t beat myself up every day over that?”I couldn’t think of anything to say ...hat didn’t include the word ‘fuck’ a whole lot, so I kept quiet.“I know the reason why,” she continued. “But knowing it doesn’t fix the problem. Look at you! You get so angry at your neighbours for tiny irritations. And you get really mad at yourself as well – over little things that don’t matter. These are all symptoms of depression.”She paused and. As I am taking the garbage out, I meet Mrs. Donna and the lovely Amy."Is your Mom home? We want to visit for a while," Mrs. Donna greets me. Amy is forcing herself not to look me in the eye. She still must be embarrassed from last night."Yes, she is home, working out upstairs. I'll let you in." I open the door letting the two beauties in our home. I go upstairs to tell my Mom we have company.I find her in the spare room where the treadmill is, "Mom, Mrs. Donna and Amy are here." Oh, that’s. More

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