Kitten

Looking back, I can’t remember the truth. I blew everything out of proportion so I could feel the hurt and betrayal and write about it in vivid detail. It was my own method of torture. My own undoing; and I enjoyed every second of it.

Let’s run away until the thumping of our feet against pavement sounds like war drums fading. Everything has been a battle and we are both so tired of fighting, maybe we deserve to be deserters. Maybe we have already been deserted.

i want to run away. it’s not that i hate this place, or that something particularly horrible has happened. i feel the never ending need to go and run and see new things and breathe different air. i feel the need to go somewhere where i know nothing and learn absolutely everything about it until it could be my hometown. i want to go start over and find new friends and new family. maybe, sometime after all that, i’ll come back here. maybe i’ll apologize for leaving so abruptly without any goodbyes, and maybe i’ll find my old friends and we’ll catch up. but, in all honesty, if i leave, that’s it. even the people that would miss me will slowly move on and will probably hate me for leaving without a word. this place wouldn’t be the same when or if i ever chose to come back. it would never feel like “home” again. but maybe that’s okay.

“The only reason why I’d do it again is because it made me who I am today. The nights I spent lying awake, tossing and turning. The times I debated whether or not to call you. That hollow feeling in my chest when it was over all of a sudden. Leaving you on your doorstep with tears in your eyes hurt me as much as it hurt you.” But I don’t know how to be different, I added in my head, I don’t know how to stop running. I took a step away from him and wiped his tears from my cheeks. Then I did what I did best. I ran.” - excerpt 
n.j.