High and dry

I left thinking I needed to escape but somewhere in those hundred miles I discovered that the only thing I needed to get away from was myself.

So it's back to the place of comfort, the place I call home. But this time round, returning isn't just simply coming home because it's hardly what I would call familiarity anymore. So much has changed.

Maybe we shouldn't let people into our lives that easily. Because when you decide to, you weigh against the consequences of them walking out, leaving you in a state worse than before.

How are we supposed to know where to place our foot anymore?