The Place Where I Used To Belong

I stopped by Weil's today after I got my grad photos taken. Abir and Jules had me hyped up on some notion that I'd get somewhere by doing this. That it'd be good for me.

Me? I was just wanting to say bye to Helen, who was my mentor and, though everyone was nice there, was the only one who was always on my side. Well. That's a lie. Near the end, she just became indifferent, and Jo wasn't too bad herself... but anyways, I went to say bye because she is leaving in a week to go to Niagara on the Lake. I saw that coming too, believe it or not. Her leaving.

I don't know why I get myself into believing that maybe, maybe I'd be loved still, when I know that it won't happen. Or, in more general terms: Why do I keep making myself believe these lies I see right through? I've got great "instinct," or so I've been told. It's not about reading emotions, or knowing when someone is about to attack or my life is in danger. It's me knowing, somehow, what's going to happen- mainly, when my heart will break a little bit more.

The second Tom was brought up into a conversation as a prospective co-op student alongside me, I had the little itch of a feeling that this was going to be a repeat of SP. But I ignored it. After all, I felt good. I thought I belonged. So I let it go.

And I step in today to see him included, with others, and me trying to enter the bubble that has been made to keep me out.

And I know that in the end, I won't be accepted into the bubble. No. This isn't the end. This is an epilogue that wasn't supposed to be. I saw the ending, back when everyone was saying they'd still be around, they'd still see me.

And I knew that no, I wouldn't. Not the way they meant.

Or, perhaps, in a more melancholic way- exactly the way they meant.


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