I know exactly what you’re thinking. You think you feel guilty, but it’s not that. There’s no such thing as guilty. There’s just the fear of getting caught. It’s the first day after, so that fear is still fresh. Your brain’s all sick and twisted up. You’re paranoid everyone knows, you fucked up, you’re going to lose everything. You want to throw up but there’s nothing in your stomach. You’re not going to sleep tonight. You’ll hit the bottle, you’ll watch some TV, looking for any news that they’re on to you but there won’t be any. Tomorrow morning, you’re going to wake up and it’s going to be the same world. Nothing has changed. And that fear will start to creep away, and after a few days you’re going to realize no one knows shit. That this whole bloody thing that’s amounted to you as some kind of importance has somehow slipped beneath the notice of the world. And then you’ll be a new man.