When I left home...
When I left home that day I thought of you. I was 17 and scared and walking down the highway with a bag on my shoulder and I wanted to run to you. But I'd had no response from any of my letters. No word since that night. And all I could picture was me walking down your driveway and your parents sending me home. Or worse, you laughing at me. And I couldn't take either.
So I went as far away as I could. Hopefully so far that no one would send me back.
But almost a year later the people I was living with felt that if they kicked me out I would have no choice but to go home. And so I proved them wrong and married some kid in Vegas just to show them.
No one got how horrible home was. I didn't think you would even get it then.
Getting married was stupid...but I can still say that it was better than going home.
I was scared and all alone, and I had been for almost a year. And I couldn't handle being either anymore.
And from what I had been told you had moved so far beyond me that you had probly forgotten who I was.
But I thought about you. Every time I came back I didn't even want to see you. I couldn't handle seeing you with someone else.
I don't know if you can understand this at all.
All this time.... I thought of you.
3 comments:
I can relate to this.
The smallest things remind us of the largest moments.
Little Bird:
If you can relate to this, then I am very sorry. I would like to be the only one to know this sort of pain.
Eva:
You have no idea. Thank you.
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