I wish I could let everything go. I don't know how to let go of things that are ancient history. None of it feels resolved. It was superficial. And I chose to vent to the wrong people. I always do. I can hear the backhandedness in their voices, and the voices of people they just cared about that much more. I know one day I'll let myself enter the big sleep. I'll slip away, silently into the dark. My body will lay there, in the back of my car, five states away. When they get the call, I hope they don't care. Just like they didn't care in life. I hope they don't talk about how much of a tragedy it is. And I sure as shit hope they don't act confused. Because I had to carry everything alone. They gave me nothing and always expected more of me. Only started treating me human when they were moving away. Because they wanted my support. But never wanted to hand me any in return. Instead, I'm looked at like some fucked up science experiment when I talk. When I have emotions. When I have issues.