Silence after Company (It's just you and me, Billie Holiday)

I was inches away from his neck, watching his jugular pulse, when I found myself aching for the strange relationship I shared with my Endocrine System not long ago. I've been waking up everyday with my game face on, but have no found a reason to exist here. There are probably people trained to deal with that, but I still haven't sought them out. No one needs to tell me what I know best.

This is it, staring across from a couch where I hardly exist. I'm watching kids have fun, the same way I used to have fun at the Artspace. They're dancing, pushing each other, laughing, and exploring extroversion. I keep telling myself I've been a part of this, even though I know I haven't been. Maybe, just like Shep, I helped create a place for them. Except, I always believed that I would always have fun with it. I never imagined myself as an adult.

Him and I, we're not friends. We're not anything but some untied loose ends trying to bury memories under new albums, new girlfriends, or, in my case, 2,000 miles. Somehow, I've managed to only see the best parts, but I'm sure he's reminded constantly of my abuse. I'll never forgive myself.

I gave up. I failed a class, quit my jobs, split town, and headed towards the Blue Ridge. When I thought about it, I dug a soft grave of incapacitation. I sold off every part of myself to avoid my pain, the daemon crawling below my skin, and watched myself turn into a pile of ashes. I wonder all the time if I'm strong enough to change. My life is like a cycle, and I'll never stay close to anyone for long. I ran away before I tore through more friendships like a wrecking ball.

This is the conflict, Intimacy VS Isolation.

I couldn't take the silence when everyone left.