Put them behind me like relics from the past. We are beyond occasional phone calls and drop-ins. Dwellers of the same city, but we might as well live on different continents. I wish them well, but I’m done dwelling and I’m bordering on something beyond us, me, and them.
I know what it takes when something’s in the way, but it takes more than just knowing.
I wonder if they really know how the other half live. I listen to them talk, their conversation laced with misunderstandings and sheltered views. If they knew my past, what would they think? If they really knew me, would they want to know me at all?
My mind is much too heavy and my thoughts are killing time. Bring me back around again, I’m lost in paranoia, regret, and skepticism. Independence is a much needed treat and as I work my way up to that point, I get lost in the shuffle along the way. It’s just so easy for some people.