And then I'm reminded of why I have such a temper, and why no one understands.
Because they haven't ever seen the things that I've seen. Maybe they never will. I hope they never will.
"Damaged people are scary, because they know they can survive."
That's a true statement.
I still remember so many things so vividly. Trying to leave. My dad being oblivious that I was planning on never coming back the day that I came home and took my things away. Them showing up at work and taking me home. My mom crying and reading my letter.
I remember the way he tasted, like cigarettes usually, and sometimes sweeter, like weed. Those were the times I knew he was lying to me. Usually I thought it would pass. Eventually I stopped losing faith. I knew there was one thing he'd always lie to me about. I knew I couldn't make him quit. I knew I couldn't change him. It doesn't change the fact that he told me he loved me. It doesn't change the fact that I believed it. Luckily for him, I don't believe it anymore.
I know I can't hold him accountable for what happened. I know that I was ready to let go before he left. I know that I ignored his calls, and I couldn't forgive him for leaving. I also knew that he had bigger problems than me. I knew that he needed to get his life together. I just hate that he didn't come back to me once he did that. I hate that I wasn't given any closure. And I hate that I never got to say goodbye. In a weird way, I know he does too, when he's sober enough to remember me.
Sometimes I remember why I don't talk to people about things anymore.
so i'll drive so fucking far away that i never cross your mind.
and do whatever it takes in your heart to leave me behind.