GO. AND STAY GONE.
Go. Stay gone. There’s nothing for you here, but the sack of bones in your closet that you’re starting to feel like you miss. Go before it recollects itself and sits placidly as dead weight on your shoulders.
This is not like that one time he got home too late and you made him sleep on the pull-out couch, only to crawl in next to him because teaching him a lesson wasn’t worth sleeping alone. This is not like the one time your best friend blew you off, only to call you up drunk for a ride home hours later, and despite it all, you go to pick her up, because you reasoned anger was better than grief. You’d prefer not to see her on the news, dead the next morning from drunk driving.
This is for all the times he’s been home late, and you were too tired to stay up for him. This is for the moment you realized sleeping alone made no difference. This is for all the times she waited until she needed something to call you. For all the times she didn’t call.
It’s been a cycle. You’ve been driving around the rotary, too afraid you’ll take the wrong exit, but while you’re second guessing yourself, your tank is down to its last drop of gas, and soon you’ll be stranded, waiting for a tow truck to get you where you could’ve gotten yourself if you hadn’t been so chicken.
Just go with the flow [of traffic], and it will all work out, if only you’d let it. Don’t hold yourself up.
You left, so finish it up and stay gone.
Ain't that the truth? Mhmm...
(...and exactly what I need to do.)