Sometimes, I’m afraid that I’ve clutched the skin of someone too close to me. So that I feel if I pull away some of me might go with them, as if our skin were layers of paint on a porch that refuse to separate from each other.

Sometimes, I am too involved. I am empathetic to a fault. I wipe at other’s tears as if they were acid searing into their cheeks that I scrape away at the expense of my own finger tips.
This time though, I want to be selfish. I want to shake my fist at rationality, and scream at wisdom, and hold fast to what I have while all the world around tries to throw me off. I want to stay.
People say change is good, but not all types of change can fall in the same category.
The changes sickness ravages across a body, the changes mankind is making to the environment, and this particular change that is threatening to happen in my life right now:
I refuse to believe that this change is good.

I want to fight. I want to wrap my knuckles in all that I know to be good and pound with them against every obstacle that stands in the way of my love. I want to scream my convictions to everyone who will listen. I want to shake sense into the one person that I never thought I would have to.

But, I’m so tired of trying to convince people to stay in my life. I just want them to want to.


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