How do you start to tell someone something you don't even want them to know? You don't. You lie. Nothing complex. Just a simple white lie. I had grown up with these very sentiments drilled in my head. I don't know why, but at that very moment I hesitated. What lie do I use? I know I can't lie to him though. He can read me like a book. How do I get out of this? I don't. I can't. I tough it out. I get over my petty insecurities. At least I can try to make everything go away, or leave me alone. I know it won't, because that is the life that comes with being the chameleon.

Whether I want it or not this is my life. I don't like to think of it as being stuck. Not trapped. Not confined. Just…here. This is my life. This is who I am. This is my family. This is my past. My present. My future. He, however, was my one weakness. My Achilles' heel. I had to tell him the truth. Why did I leave? Why didn't I say good bye? Why didn't I take him with me? Why didn't I tell him? Anyone? How could I be so stupid? How could I believe me leaving would help? Even the slightest bit?

I loved him. I love him. I love Bex. I love Liz. I love Macey. I love my mom. I love my dad. I love my sisters. I love my teachers. I love my family. I love my friends. I had to leave to protect who I love. I had to keep them safe. I have to keep them safe.

His questions kept coming. Tears streaming down his face, words pouring out of his mouth, He looked mad, but happy. Sad, but excited. I had to leave, again. If him seeing me led to this he would be irrational when protecting me. He would start throwing him in front of bullets. I could not let that happen. I could not see him dead. I needed him. He was my tie to the real world. The support beam keeping me up. His words came faster. They grew louder. I stood in front of him, not in the least bit ashamed of what I had done. I had left the people I loved, by choice. I never looked back. I couldn't. I had to have them alive. No matter if I was with them or not, they had to survive this. I had to leave.

Why couldn't he understand that? I had to leave. Now, I had to do it again. It hadn't been my fault he had found me. I love them. I would give my life for them. It could never be the other way around. I cared too much for them to let that happen. So as his words pored out in torrents, slurring together I straightened my head. As his tears came faster, I raised to my full height. As his finger jabbed at me in a threatening manner, his arms slackened. His posture dropped into a slouch. He was giving up. It was the first time he had ever given up. I had broken him. How could I leave now? How could I have left in the first place?