We've got a Runner

I run.

I'm good at it, too. I know just when to run, and for exactly how long to run before its no longer worth the effort. I run mostly because I'm scared, but sometimes because I'm being stubborn.

Maybe I'm stubborn because I'm scared.

Who really gives a fuck.

I got in a fight with Kate tonight and some things came out of her that I couldnt handle. I was a bad friend, and she knew it. I thought maybe I had gotten away with it. That she was stupid. But I was the fool and I got out of the car without saying a word.

I clam up.

I get home, throw my shoes around, run the bath, and soak. Soak until my pores are no longer excreting, but rather... swelling.

And I still have nothing to say. And I won't until its no longer worth the effort.