I wanted to be unlike myself so bad, to be the one who finally held the painful truth to their chest and protected others from it. The one who led everyone to safety, a place where the bad things couldn’t touch us anymore. The one who lives. Instead, I’m still exactly like I’ve always been. Running, paranoid, losing hope. I’ve been here before and I will be here again. It’s as inevitable as life and death. An endless cycle, inescapable. Always me.
