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.