I think they knew.
I think they knew that I was one who couldn't stay. Not because I didn't want to stay, but because I was afraid to. I am one who does not stay. I often find myself disappearing and trying to start over again. I feel as if I keep trying to get away from something, something that always catches up to me. And it is not that I run away from whatever that 'something' is, it's that I don't know what it even is and how to get rid of it. I think it might be myself. If I was capable of doing so, I think I would've been somewhere else by now. Far away. Maybe I'm trying to find something of myself that I can't seem to find here. With you. Or with them. Or this place. They have to have known. It's a bad habit. I guess I've always been so caught up with my fears that I never really thought of anything else. Or I guess that a part of the reason why I always leave is because I remember the night everything in me snapped and I pushed her out of my life. But that was the last thing I ever wanted to do. I push people away, trying to justify it with a hypothetical selfish reason. Which is, it would make it easier for the other person if I went on and left. I could be reassured time and time again but deep down my fears can't be put to rest easily. Ironic how the one who wants to disappear to new places can't even show up to make the places here old. I think it's unfortunate I have the desire to leave here, I'm not even sure why.
I think they know.
