Addicted to the Idea of Gone

I like to think that i am maybe one of those people who will always, no matter how good life is or how much they have achieved, have a bag packed by the front door. Always ready to leave.

Something about having a spirit as restless as mine, one that is constantly asking… constantly begging me to pull in the roots i have planted and wander the world looking for something i didn’t know was there. I dont know what it is, but what i do know is how much i crave it.

And soon i will have it… or at least start my search for it.

A restless spirit who once asked someone to give her a reason to stay… actually i have probably asked more then one person. And although it has always been fun, and i have had a million laughs and made more good friends then i could count i think that i have yet to be given that reason.

So i just crawl into myself when i am having a bad time and imagine… think up the ideas of being gone and look at the bag that i keep packed… by the door.

Because only the reason you give me will help me withdraw from my addiction the the idea of gone!

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