How could Reese say that to me?
The other night, I could have sworn as we looked into each other’seyes, we felt the same way for each other. That he was just on the brink oftelling me how much more he felt for me.
Was I so wrong?
And then on top of that to tell me that I’m not strong enough.That I’m just going to leave him.
How can he think that little of me?
It doesn’t matter. I need to erase him from my mind. Tomorrow,I’m getting the fuck out of town. I’m heading to Chicago. That was always theplan anyway. I knew I’d have to move on at some point.
God, how stupid could I have been for fucking with the boss? NowI don’t have any choice but to leave.
I can’t ever show my face back at the factory.
Right when I finally find a reason to change—a reason to settledown—everything goes to shit.
I don’t want to run. I’m so tired of always running.
I pack my duffle bag with as much shit as I can, take it out tothe car, and shove it in the back seat. I return to the house and keep grabbingthings, making a pile in the middle of the room.
At least I don’t have much. My nomadic lifestyle makes it so easyfor me to move on again.
I grab a pile of clothes and carry it out to the car.
Gotta go. Always gotta go.
I throw it in the passenger’s seat with the other crap I grabbedfrom Reese’s house. I try to close the door, but it jams on some of the clothesthat are starting to fall out. I open it back up and move some shit around whenI notice an envelope in the clothes that I piled in here from Reese’s place.
It’s the letter from his ex-wife.
I must have snatched it by accident with the clothes after I setthat stuff on the bed.
This is what Reese is running from. His past. He can neverescape it. It’s always there. Whether it’s a memory creeping into his thoughtswhile he sleeps or a letter from a woman who loved him, no matter what he does,it’s always there.
I’m no different.
No matter where I go. No matter how hard I try to escape thepain, it’s always there. Following me. It chases me, not in the way thatReese’s demons haunt him, but in its own twisted way.
What’s going to happen if I change the city one more time?Change of faces. Change of names. Change of jobs. But there will still be pain.There’s always pain. That’s what Reese has learned too.
I gaze at my stuff, piled up in the passenger’s seat. Not evenin a box or suitcase.
It’s a great symbol of what my life really is. Messy, jumbled,chaotic.
Do I really want to head up to Chicago only to find myselfrunning into this same fate?
I could do it so easily, but I don’t want to. I’m tired.
I glance back at the house.
Charlie stands in the doorway. He doesn’t have that playfulexpression on his face—the one I’m accustomed to.
“Want to talk about it?” he asks as he walks down the porchsteps and approaches me.
He glances into the car.
“Man troubles?”
