“Do you want to leave? Do you want to just go? I feel like we should, I feel like this is it maybe. I’m ready, I’ve been ready for a while. I’ve been having all these dreams where I’m surrounded by tall men who tell me, ‘but this is what you wanted’ while they eat messy food off those shitty plates Susanna collected and kept on the Welsh Dresser. That’s a lie, it was just one dream, but I think it meant something. I woke up shaking and angry, I say I never get angry, don’t I? That’s a lie.
I’ve got into this habit where I like new people, people I’ve just met, to think that the way I let one or two of the girls and boys in my life treat me like shit is typical. I like them to think I’m no bother, someone they could treat like shit if they wanted. I keep it up until they notice I’m as furious as anyone, maybe more. It’s not a lie really, more like a resolution, one I never stick to.
It’s just that I had a fight with him last night, for no reason, the moment we were getting somewhere. I screamed, ‘Thats it, I’m done with you, I’m leaving!’ and he laughed because I’ve said it before, because I’m angry all the time. If I was ever good at anything it was packing; I can put together a suitcase like no one else, I can make the most of a small space.
Do you want to leave? I want to leave now. I want to be what I say I am and what I let people think I am for once. I want to be angry and say I’m going and go. If you’re ready I’m ready; I could pack, we could go.”