I am a mess. An irrevocable one. Irreparable. I am a mess because of the non-choices choices I have made. The decisions I have taken. The final answers I have given. I am this way because I am deemed to be.I am so because I have caused to be so.I am a mess. A broken one. I am not the broken beautiful from the fiction I so love to read. I am an ugly heap of the person I used to be. In the past. My past. I was beautiful then.A mess,regardless. But a beautiful one. The fictional kind. The fairytale kind. The storybook life I seemed to have back then is stuff of nightmares now. Choking me. Choking the life out of me. The stuffy feeling does not go away. Why doesn’t it go away?!People were jealous back then. They pity me now.I am pitiful.I should be burned in hell.I should be buried six feet under. I am damaged goods.I am damaged. I am irreparable. I can not be redeemed. I am a mess. An ugly mess.