There's nothing left in this town for me. Same streets, same houses, same alleys, same cars, same goddamn people. The vacant buildings mirror our vacant hearts. It's not uninhabited, yet, but it might as well be a ghost town. I don't need to be here, I never did. But I stayed.
Because of you.
You. My motivation to get up in the morning and the reason I couldn't bear to sleep. You. The person I sacrificed everything for but gave me nothing in return. You. The only person I ever trusted with something as precious as my heart, only to have it shattered.
Everyone thought I was crazy and maybe I was, but it was worth it if you were mine. But you weren't. So I went from crazy in love, to plain crazy. I would have taken a bullet for you. To be ripped, flesh and bone, wouldn't cause me as much pain as I endured each time you hugged him, touched him, looked at him.
We never did try to fit in or change our images to the status quo, you and me, but with him, you became everything we always hated in a person. You slowly began to conform to society, losing any originality, any uniqueness, anything at all the distinguished you from the next girl. You lost touch with our values, our hopes, our dreams - but maybe that's it. They were mine - my values, my hopes, my dreams.
But all it took was a boy to sweep you off your feet, for you to forget everything you've aspired for.
And maybe that's where it happened, where we went wrong. Where I went wrong. The realization hit me like a slap to the face. You weren't mine before, and you sure as hell aren't going to be mine later.
That's when I left. You were too toxic for me, a drug I was addicted to, yet a drug that ruined me. It became the worst kind of unrequited love - indispensable, undeniable, and worst yet, unescapable. I fled the city on a whim. Cowardly, yes, but, then again, weren't we?
I used up all my savings and traveled the world for a year, anywhere to get away from you. Anything to forget you. And, for a while, I did. The experiences I had on the road, the people I encountered, the cultures I was immersed in, the events I witnessed. I guess I can thank you for that. If you had never broke me, never shattered my heart and soul, never tore me down just for you to build yourself up again, then maybe I wouldn't have left.
I never did go back to that ghost town. Too many broken memories, too many broken people. A city made up of my darkest nightmares. I barely escaped, barely avoided wasting away my life in the middle of nowhere. And anyways - I could never bring myself to face you, see what you had made in this world. I hoped that you'd gotten out, but a small part of me wanted you to still be there, rotting away. It wasn't common for people to leave, but when they did you'd never know. One day they'd be walking downtown, head down, minding their own business like everyone else, and the next day they'd be gone. Like a mirage that was never there. Just like our relationship.
I'd like to think my own disappearance wasn't like that, but I know that's just one of the many lies I tell myself to get by. That I hadn't just up and left. Hadn't abandoned everything that I had, for something uncertain. Because as much as I hated that ghost town, it was the only home I've ever truly had.
