It was all he could do on those quiet nights when he couldn't sleep. He often thought up the same argument, only varying slightly in the wording, but generally the same kicker. "Why?" It was such a simple question, but the thing is is that no simple question is free from the possibility of a complex or unfulfilling answer. So he thought of another variation. "Why leave?" It went deeper, and then the question came back, the words directed to him? "Why not leave?" He thought of that, as much as he didn't much care to think of his own troubles that door was held shut with a doorstop made of excuses. "Because that isn't me. It's not what I want. Because it was what someone else wanted." All that and here he was, a ways from home, unsure of what he wanted, going through the motions of day-to-day life. But now he had to reflect, not on his words, but on someone else's. She'd been honest with him for why she was leaving. But deep down he felt resentment for that honesty, because it was something he didn't have for himself the way she did. But she was right, and he'd been trying to make more excuses, but she wouldn't have it. He wished he could've told her she was right, but that time was passed. And he finally had his answer. He didn't have to leave in the same way she did, but he did have to leave his excuses behind. He needed to stop with the fictional arguments first of all, and then maybe he'd finally start being able to make his own answers.

This ych was done by:   racerdragon

Base by:   dauxycheeks

Achilles is Mine