I Am Afraid to Go Wrong I am afraid I might be turning happy. I am well-fed, well-sheltered, well-clothed, well-fucked. I need things to wish for, things to make myself desperate miserable for before my imagination starts hibernating. Things are just going too well for something not to go wrong. Okay, there was the thing with J. and Taz, but something worse than that, something bigger. Perhaps J. will lose interest in me soon, now that I am growing used to thinking of him. I maybe should not have written him that letter, not sent it at least. I need things wrong before I curl up in a cozy little ball of fuzzy green contentment, something has to go wrong.  ¶ 9:42 PM