(no subject)

May 07, 2008 14:51



“Don’t go.” “Don’t leave us.” “Please stay.” They always said the same things, repeated lines that didn’t mean jack-shit, but were intended to send some sort of message to him, that he’d be missed after he was gone. He knew it was all a lie. If they’d enjoyed his presence before, they sure hadn’t made it very obvious. Hell, even if they had made their claims before the plans were made, he might have listened. Maybe.

He told them that he didn’t know where he was going, but he knew that here was not the place for him. Not at the moment, anyway. It wasn’t their fault, it was his. Time had kicked down the door and told him to wake the fuck up, and he decided to answer the call. They always wanted him to stay, he didn’t know why, it’s not like he meant anything to them. He was just another face, another passing glance on the street as they went along to wherever it was they were going. It didn’t matter. Most of it rarely did.

He hoped this time it would work, hoped he’d never have to hear those hollow words again. The last time he did, he didn’t want to leave. Those words meant something coming from someone who meant something; but again it was fate that had a different idea. Now, it was no longer up to fate. It was up to him. He had a mission, a place he wanted to be.

He’d walk out that door, out of their lives, and out of his temporary life, in hopes of finding his again. I hope he finds it. At this point, he's probably earned it.
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