i wasn't done.
that's not unfamiliar.
when am i done with anything.
i have strings attached to a thousand little things
that i can't forget.
and i just want to go home again.

writing a letter i'll never send, to reread in 20 years and feel it all again...
walk away on goodbye. callous is easier. to make it hurt makes the healing work.
you can't heal if you cant hurt.
right?