Good Bye

It’s not that I forgot.

Far from.

Nor was it that I didn’t want to go. I’m not sure what came over me… something different. A feeling of despair maybe, longing, loathing…

The time drifted and by the time I got there, I couldn’t bring myself to swing open that door. The door that was surrounded by under-aged smokers too drunk to even stand straight without leaning against the wall. That door.

I was alone, as always. It always seems whenever there is something I want to do, basically everyone tells me to fuck off. I hate being told to fuck off.

I don’t think anyone realizes how alone I always am. I must have friends in Toronto, right? Friends that I can hang out with whenever I long to be social. Yeah, I don’t.

I went home. Fuck it. I felt awful, felt like I was letting someone down, felt like I was breaking a promise. But I just couldn’t do it.

I found myself in the park, as always. I loved it there… and I loved night. Ever since that guy tried to take me, I never wandered at night anymore… I forgot how much I loved it. It was cold, the air frosty. The snow had melted into rain, and now the rain was melting into ice.

The lamplight cast a warm glow into the cold night. Luring me into the depths like a moth. A few strays wandered the park – usually hands linked with their lover, friend, fucker.

My tears melted. My heart broke.

My shoes sunk into the moist earth. I didn’t dance – I stalked, hoping the night would take me. Praying I could just go away… or had somewhere to go to. Somewhere safe and with people who loved me; a safe haven.

But time had passed, and there was only one place to go.

Home. The strange place that all my stuff is at, yet the feeling is not. The place where I don’t feel like I really belong anymore.

I curl into myself. Knife held in the palm of one hand, blade to flesh.

Blade to flesh.

Good bye.