You didn't start this but you finished it. You didn't do anything but keep your thoughts to yourself, content with them being forever silenced. You wanted them to be happy even if you didn't know her at all. You knew him, and you wanted him happy. You counseled him on them plenty of times. So what changed for you to go from the confidant to the damned?
It was when he confessed about the thing that was driving him crazy the past few weeks. She was the person you dubbed "mystery girl". A mystery girl who plagued his thoughts. She was the "what if". But you were her all along. You were the variable. You were the part of his heart that he wanted to pull out and forget. You were the silence when you asked him what was wrong. You.
And you know that you're driven by impulses. As much as you plan things out such as perfectly curated playlists, outfits and even words, you can never get a grip on your impulses. It is the same impulses that drive you to kiss people when they tell you things like how much you've wedged into their hearts, how they don't want you to leave, that they still love you even after years have passed or even the ones are unsure just where they stand in their love for you. You impulsively flee too. You flee to Salem, to Maine, to North Carolina and all of it is to run.
Where are you running to though? What's the point? The ones you have unleashed your impulsions on have told you before that no matter where you go and no matter what you've done, you've managed to find a way under their skin. So, it doesn't matter in the end how much you want to run because you might as well stay. You should admire your ability to tattoo your way on people's hearts. You'll never be forgotten, in any case, no matter how much many times they cover it up. You'll both know you'll always be there. Fuck.
It was when he confessed about the thing that was driving him crazy the past few weeks. She was the person you dubbed "mystery girl". A mystery girl who plagued his thoughts. She was the "what if". But you were her all along. You were the variable. You were the part of his heart that he wanted to pull out and forget. You were the silence when you asked him what was wrong. You.And you know that you're driven by impulses. As much as you plan things out such as perfectly curated playlists, outfits and even words, you can never get a grip on your impulses. It is the same impulses that drive you to kiss people when they tell you things like how much you've wedged into their hearts, how they don't want you to leave, that they still love you even after years have passed or even the ones are unsure just where they stand in their love for you. You impulsively flee too. You flee to Salem, to Maine, to North Carolina and all of it is to run.
Where are you running to though? What's the point? The ones you have unleashed your impulsions on have told you before that no matter where you go and no matter what you've done, you've managed to find a way under their skin. So, it doesn't matter in the end how much you want to run because you might as well stay. You should admire your ability to tattoo your way on people's hearts. You'll never be forgotten, in any case, no matter how much many times they cover it up. You'll both know you'll always be there. Fuck.