The night is stuffy. Or is it just me? Suffocating from the over whelming concern and care. Intimidated, even.
I’m starting to run the other way.
Lying on the bed, staring up the ceiling and submerge myself in many thoughts.
Why is that I’m withdrawing?
What is that that I’m running away from?
How did I change?
Where did things go wrong?
For the very first time, from the dark of my heart, I ought to realize that I, prefer to be, 1.