Boarding a plane to nowhere for my problems.

I bring nothing with me, nothing of my past, nothing of what I am leaving behind.

I will leave you with the memories of us, I will not want to use them again.

A trace of my perfume and a piece of your heart you cannot seem to find will be the only things that tell you I was not a dream.

I did not give you a chance to ask me to stay, after all, this flight I’m catching isn’t one I have ever missed.

I have done this enough times now that I almost don’t feel a thing. Almost.

I know you will wonder if I will come back, because I will wonder too.

But running is all I know, all I am. I have not yet loved me enough to let myself love you too.