I understand you. I understand why you are the way you are. I know that feeling all too well.
I was never good at sitting still. When I was in school, my head was in the clouds. When I was at work, my mind was elsewhere. Neither here, nor there.
I never quite understood how to stay with my feet planted in one place.
Maybe you, too, are surrounded by people who are rooted. You feel like an alien to everywhere and a native to nowhere. You don’t really know where you stand.
If you had roots, you’d rip them out of the ground. The very ground you have loved and hold dear, but must depart from.
Nobody would comprehend it. It’s too complicated to explain. It’s confusing even to you. You, yourself, in all your years of moving and going, still cannot make any sense of it. You’re a walking contradiction.
Because you feel at home but you miss it at the same time. It always feels close to your heart but far from your grasp.
You feel fulfilled but there’s a void.
Once you arrive, you’re ready to leave. And sometimes you want to stay, but you won’t for long.
You know staying is shortlived.
You pine for change; it’s your temptress.
Adventure is your muse.
And you’re addicted.
No one wants you to leave; you’ll be missed. You’re that kind of person who stays with people even when you’re gone. They’re selfish, but in a good way. They know you best, but they’re probably the ones who understand this the least. Because why would you leave the people and places you love?
You’ll try to explain; God knows I’ve tried. It doesn’t make sense to them, and why would it?
It doesn’t. They’re not like you. You’re probably the only one you know who feels this way. You’re the literal definition of an annomaly, but you’re a pretty damn great one.
Being the way you are doesn’t make life easier, but easy is boring, and fuck that.
So restlessness greets you, and you welcome it. It’s a curse, but in another way it’s your magic.
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