And as the seconds tick away, I countdown to my departure.
Four more days, I think to myself.
That's all I need to endure before I leave this place.
I'll leave this small town and return to my former French town.
I can't wait to see faces and hear voices I haven't in a while.
But,
I can't help but feel it was my fault all along.
Maybe you've poisoned me. Maybe you know I'd **** to have you be my everything.
Unfairly, your words penetrate my thoughts like a needle through a water balloon.
And like a sponge, my brain over analyzes each word.
And,
like a young child, I get wrapped in my imagination,
teetering between one idea and another.
I'm indecisive,
I always have been,
but if there's one thing I know,
ninety-six hours to go.