I'm here now. But I won't be coming back.

You were kinder once. You were better once. You were happy once.

You were my saviour, I'm sorry I don't know how to be yours.

I hope someone does know how to help you some day, I just know it won't be me.

I was kinder once. I knew what to do once. I helped once.

But, as selfish as it is, nothing is getting better so I don't want to ruin the lives of others by putting my nose in. What I'm smelling is not the warm smell of a cosy family.

We were kinder once. We were a family once. We were happy once.

But no, this year they've gone. And we're the ones left behind. As much as I hate to say it, I'm afraid of stepping into the broken circle in case someone has something horrible to say; in case someone wants to pick a fight; in case someone's hurt. I can't help you. Not anymore.

I've become bitter, as you have become unhappy. I've become selfish, as you close in on yourself. I've become distant, as you shut out the world.

I'm angered by your words, hurt by your eyes, saddened by your helplessness. I've given up because you are giving up. Nothing I do helps anymore, it just makes our friendship go sour.

I'm selfish, and a horrible friend. I think of nothing but myself and my love. I don't even understand why you hurt anymore. I don't understand, therefore I feel I must let it go. You've made it clear you don't want me to venture too near to your pyre because you burn me when I try. 

I'm so sorry for this. But this is what I think you're telling me. You're probably gonna say something along the lines of "I never said that" "That's not what I meant" "You're twisting my words". Call me a bitch, call me a liar, call me selfish, call to me from your fire.

I am all these things. Don't beat yourself up over me. This isn't your fault as I am trying to tell myself that you're problems are not my fault. There are millions Eva Smiths and John Smiths who are hurting and I can't do a damn thing about it. That is why I'm ceasing my persistent "I'm here to help people" cos I don't. It either gets worse or nothing changes. Whether this is my fault or not, I don't want to think anymore because I will just try and work it all out in this insane head of mine and then get in a great tangle meaning I won't be able to help anyone.

I get on everyone's nerves. I know this. I've always known this. That is why I hide myself away so I don't piss people off and it's also so they don't tell me that they find me annoying. I decided that, as I can't change, I might as well just leave. I'm fine with that. I'm selfish.

This is the end. Hold your breath and.... wait that's Adele. My bad.

I do that a lot. Songs are the best way of expressing not only my own feelings but those of others so I can actually flipping understand them. Just as a note, I did start singing your poem but I've since forgotten it because you basically told me to fuck off (as I understand it). Reaction to this will probably be an explanation of how I'm wrong. But as I just said, I'm probably wrong. I'm always wrong.

But this isn't just about you. All of you. I love you and always will. That will never change. Even as I go back to the place that always has my back when I return to Solitude's loving embrace, I will be loving you from the bottom of my heart. My soul will still cry out for your company, my life force will be throbbing with an ache I can no longer satisfy, my mind will tie itself in knots. As geography made me understand, I hate being human. The pain and suffering that we create, it is nothing but ourselves. If someone isn't fighting against us or making us feel shit, we make ourselves feel shit. We give a justified reason for why we're upset but, in the end, we are the only ones to blame for our own suffering. Humans.

In primary school, I believed I was a fairy/alien/magical being from another planet that, in the far future, was destroyed by humans. I have a large array of story openings to prove it.  They all say the same thing about my childhood. I hated being human. Still do.

The only reason why my soul is still trapped within the body of a species I hate is because of the other souls around me who would miss me. I know you'd miss me as I would miss you if you were to leave for another life, be it Canada or species. I'm still here because I want to make the best of a pretty shitty species in my opinion. I'm also still here for you.

All of you. The Floydians, the Old Floydians, my 6th formers, my family, my love. You are the reason I am still tied by my ankles to the ground. In this body, I don't have the power to run large distances, fly above the ground, dig beneath it, dive deeper than any other creature has before. But I'm making the best of it, I hope, and I want you all to promise that you will too.

No matter how shit life appears to be. No matter how many fights you or your loved ones are in. No matter how your soul is kept just a few minutes down the road. Keep making the best of a bad situation. 

The hopes you have may be far too high, way out of reach, but you have to try.

This is my final post to protagonize. I shall not make you feel bad anymore and I shall not try and show I care through a medium which hides my face. I am still writing my stories and my songs and some day I'll complete them. But protagonize has given me heart-ache and pain, and I don't know if I can face it again. But I'm going to stop now, I've gone too far. I wanna hide my self from black eyes.

So here is my resignation and here is my love. Good luck to you. Good luck trying. Good luck loving. Good luck with emotion. Good luck.

Farewell. (%)

The End

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