This is not the book I planned to write. The one I planned was funnier. This one got away from me somewhere around the second glass of Jack and never really came back. What you're holding is ten years of sleepless nights, bad decisions, girls I loved and lost and loved wrong, a medical condition I'll probably never fully say out loud, and the quiet decision I made over and over again, in the dark, alone, to still be here. Make of that what you will.