I wish I could just pack my bags and move away, decide you're one of those things I don't need to carry around, be strong enough to leave you behind, in my past, where you belong.
But I am not strong enough, or perhaps I don't want to be, and I still want you in my life, although there's no future written for us.
I wish I could pack my bags and fold you neatly, like a shirt, place you among my belongings. Steal you away from your life and take you to a place where no one knows us, where we could start writing a future that has us together.
Thus I am stuck, looking at the baggage left open in the middle of my soul. I guess I'm not going anywhere for now.
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