how-to manual for no longer feeling guilty about the ring you stole from your friend in seventh grade because you didn’t know how else to feel something other than getting the rush of blood in your ears after successfully pulling off a heist because not all that deep down you’re lonely & a size 8 & have a crush on the girl you’re working on a charles dickens essay with but now every time you see it buried shamefully in your jewelry box you remember how miserably, painfully emotionally stunted you were & feel your stomach curdle & bile rise in your throat