author's note.

this is a story of a girl, who always left.

 she was a little like mary poppins, the way she left when the wind changed. people didn't really like her because of it. 

she left because she liked leaving people the idea of her, rather than her actuality. it felt more genuine, because she was ever changing. she was never the same.

i like the idea of that. leaving the person you were with people you loved, and moving on. it's a memoir of sorts.

i dont think people see things the way i do. people love permanence. the sick, sadistic way of keeping things forever. they crave immortality and look upon it as a blessing. 

for the girl, permanence lived in her in moments. 

in moments when he held her hand in the dark for a while.

in moments where she danced in the terrace with friends she would never see again.

in moments where she wrote letters to those who were taught to forget.

she liked being variable. it felt free. 

-

she wasnt always like that, though. she taught herself to be free. to let go.

earlier, she sought connection. something she could keep. 

but the things she tried to keep, never stayed.

all the lions, and bears and elephants trudged on,

and she never knew where they went.

she realised that people were worse. they weren't something you could keep in your pocket and talk to whenever you felt giddy in a crowd. or under the covers when your parents fought in the other room.

she realised, that they were just as human as she was.

just as selfish,

and just as weak.

it took her weeks, and months and years to understand that she did not owe people.

she did not owe people love.

or her time.

or her body.

it was a groundbreaking revelation. because all her life she felt herself responsible for the things bad people had done to her. it is sad, this industrialization of a girl. 

i am glad she decided to lose herself. in fragments. in bits. in tears. enough to free herself. 

she valued her freedom more than anything in the world.

it was fire in face of adversity.

-

she hated people. she grew tired of people. people were exhausting, and it was never true that once you get to know a person, you grow fonder of them. 

she never did.

with every waking moment she spent with them,

she realized how different they were.

and how wrong they were.

how

meaningless.

despise crawled up her shoulder. 

and she could never make friends.

-

she did once make a friend, though. the friend looked a lot like her and it is animal in nature to trust the likes of you. 

she was still a kid. and it is through experiences that time pulls one into a rash adulthood.

later she looked down at her body.

it missed a chunk of her soul.

something she hadnt meant to give away.

but she knew 

she knew 

 that in life you meet people, agreeing to give a part of yourself. this crude investment. 

and we all know it. 

oh, have you taken more than you could give ?

                                                                

                                                            anon.