None of you would ever have to see me again.
Gone.
“She ran away.”
And if no one else will go with me, fuck it, I’ll go alone.
I could make it better on my own anyways.
At first there would be searches, then eventually people will get tired of looking.
Occasionally, my face will show up in the advertisement pages: Have you seen me? With a photograph that’s been electronically aged by five years.
But no one will see me. I’ll be gone, gone, gone.
Halfway across the country before anyone will even realize that I’ve left.
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