I feel lost and stupid and broken. Unloved. It's like that bit in Fight Club where Jack complains about his apartment exploding: "I may not have had much, but at least I had that couch settled."
Of course, that is why it hurts, I suppose. That pervasive sense of not being good enough. That unanswerable "why?" to give me the root cause that has led me to this place.
Fuck it, let's go to Dallas this weekend.