He's not sure where everything went wrong. (This is a lie. He knows exactly where everything went wrong. He knows the exact moment. He knows who he was with. He knows exactly what was said.)

Okay, so he knows where everything went wrong. But it's being able to fix it, to go back to normal is what is driving him up a wall. Because he can't go back to normal. Because there is no normal. Each day he's just inching closer and closer to turning into him, a psychotic clown with a love of guns and murder. So he tries his best to push everyone he knows away, because he needs to. He needs to try to protect those he cares about, even if those he cares about are just as psychotic, or have other sides that are just as psychotic. But he's not something he's been able to handle very well.

There are moments of clarity, where he thinks he can just be happy and do what he wants. This is the most evident when he runs into her at the pub they used to go to. Back when they lived in the same apartment complex. And when he sees her, he kisses her hard on the mouth and he doesn't apologize for the smile that appears after, and how it makes him feel. Because part of him still loves her. Will always love her. But there is a complication there. Memories of her stabbing him through the chest, memories of the warehouse burning down around him, and then she disappears from his life and he disappears to Maine. It makes sense. And, he knows it won't work. Because if her other side and his other side have anything to say about it, it will never work. So they try to steal the little moments where they can. Even if it's not fair.

And life isn't exactly fair, is it? Torn between loving two very different women, between innocence and seduction, the seduction being with one who is trying so desperately to get him back by demanding one last fuck before they part ways; it kills him to say no. Because he knows exactly what she's doing; she's trying to pull him back into her orbit. She's trying so hard to win him back, but he isn't sure what to think. She has more than a double life now, she has a triple life. He knows she's into shady things, but she's never admitted them to his face and he's never outwardly asked. Somehow, he had thought she'd trust him enough to tell him. And somehow, if she had, he had trusted himself enough to want to stay. But it doesn't work out that way, and he's alone once more.

He hates being alone, but he knows it's for the best. And he hates disappointing his friends by showing up to events and then leaving there after, but it's for the best. He knows what is coming down the pipe. He is no longer seeing the light, it's just endless darkness for him from here on out. The more the green hair grows back, the less he bothers to dye it brown now. He just wears hats. He doesn't bother with the blue contacts anymore to cover the unnatural color; he just claims he's wearing neon green contacts when people ask. But those close to him don't ask anymore.

There's no one to blame for this than himself, and he's very aware. Aware of his actions, of what he's doing, and he takes full responsibility and blame for them. But it doesn't stop himself from feeling sorry for things just once in a while, when he goes to a quiet bar and orders a beer, and sits alone. He turns down the smiles from the young women nearby, and he politely pays his check with cash and leaves. He's not keen on leaving paper trails anymore, and it's exhausting to keep it up.

It's not the best life. It's barely living. But, it's something, and that something is all he has.