The ghosts won’t leave.
When I am alone I feel left out and lonely.
I don’t believe that people are with you in spirit, I cannot. People have to physically be around me for them to be able to communicate with me or I will die of loneliness. You probably had people to eat lunch with in school and then to have staying over at your place. You probably were celebrated at the last job you were at and people did remember to be with you on the last day. I’ve not had that and so I miss what I see is social validation. You can’t trust me when I don’t drink. You don’t think it’s actually essential that I make sure you’re home before me even though it’s 3 AM and I’ll be alone and you won’t be conscious if anything goes wrong with me. See I last to the end. I have the stamina to see you through the worst of spells and then the next time, find a way out for you because I remember what a mess you were. That’s what you call detached, instead of attentive. I have the solutions to the second time you have the problem because I was there. Watching, paying attention, knocking on your door. Crying when you couldn’t. You remember someone else though. Well, you don’t owe me anything. I’m not entitled to your affection no. But don’t deny me that chance at leaving something so humiliating behind, and walking off into the next place where maybe, just maybe someone like you will turn up, will have my every bit of affection will have the best of me and maybe choose me for the next time he’s happy. Someone who won’t be surprised I left three months after I did and be totally blind to the scars that now scare me from touching my own skin and from baring it to someone who might actually give a fuck. As a response, I’ve started to push people away, at the slightest hint of neglect.
I know what’s coming, and before it hits me harder that you won’t miss me if I go away, I’ll show myself out.