There are many parts of me that came from him. Or were, at least, planted there by him - by things he did and things he said (some even from what was left unsaid). It breaks me to know that not everything I took with me when he left was good. There were habits developed as an involuntary response to his actions, his ideals - but mostly to his absence -, that frightens me; that’s not who I am.
I spent years trying so hard to form and cement a connection... Only to find myself, now, cleaning the mess that remains of what once was; trying even harder to sever all ties built. In the middle of all that, I failed to see how I was losing myself in a vain attempt to fit a mold I wasn’t made to fit. But back then that didn't matter much because his arms were my safe heaven...until they stopped being that and became a trap he couldn't wait to see me out of fast enough.
I wandered in my unconsciousness for so long. Lost, looking for an answer, any kind of answer. But there isn't really one... There is no cure for my almost chameleonic ability that keeps making me try to blend into my surroundings; even if it means leaving parts of me behind.
But even after all that failed, there is still hope – a new light at the end of yet another tunnel. And here I am, at the start of a new journey (or perhaps a new road), hoping this time it leads home.