I never wonder if they’ll care when i’m gone. They ALWAYS care when you’re fucking gone. I’d rather have two people care then 500 because chances are i was a facade abiding to the standards of society making me generally “loved” by the people i share an environment with. 90% of that population won’t give a fuck. And if they say they do and it’s not genuine, or if they’re so fucked up that they believe it’s genuine, it’s because all they care about is their feelings and the way they look to the rest of that population. They want a reason to feel bad for themselves, when in actuality they never gave a single shit about you at all. Your disappearance is just another excuse.
But what’s the point if you’ve lost part of yourself? Is there anyway to get it back? I just keep going to find out and if I die knowing that there’s no way, I would’ve wasted all this time. But does anything really matter at all? Will I ever know?
One day I’m going to disappear from the life I lead. Right into thin air, they won’t ever guess what happened. Would they care enough to even guess? Maybe that’s why I need to disappear because I don’t how much longer I can do this. Just a little while longer, I’m fucking trapped. Just a little while longer. The only thing that makes me stay is the idea that one day I’ll have a place to call home. WIth walls that accept me and my secrets. My happy and sad. All the shit that I drag into that home with me. And that’s why it would be my home. One day I’ll have a home. I will. I will. I will.