Broadripple is Burning

I was wasted, she could taste it… I didn’t want her to look at me that way. I wanted her to leave, I would see her again, when I began to haunt her like a ghost.

If my many words felt like fire to her, it was only in an attempt to warm her cold heart. She had become a shallow resemblance of the joyful person that had brought me here; she immediately regretted coming. For whatever reason she had forgotten why she left to begin with… It was her odd homesickness which drew her back; however that had diminished within days of being home. Her resentment had begun to flood over into my world, one that had been crumbling long before I thought her to be what I waited for.

What is it that I truly wanted? This was an elusive thought, but I suppose my life would be drab at best if I knew what I wanted… even if this wasn’t the case it was the only thing I could come back to that proved to have some sense of comfort associated to it.

I didn’t even think to leave a note, that act of civility would be lost on her anyway. It wouldn’t matter anyhow, if I wasn’t there when she got back no matter what notification I may have forwarded along would still look like cowardice. I didn’t want to wait in fear of her following; but I was now, just as I always had been, going somewhere she could never follow. It wasn’t that I was better than this, better than her… but it was all those things and more. My life’s just casual discrepancies followed by double-speak, it’s complexity I thrive in, however it’s also been my own worst enemy.