I thought a lot about the last thing I’d say to you. I’d picture myself walking straight up to you, our faces only inches apart, and telling you that I didn’t need you anymore. That you were indispensable and I was a boy with so many options that I couldn’t decide which door to open first. I would imagine your eyes; crumpling like paper at the mere thought of losing me, and feel a sense of defiance. “I’m untouchable” I’d say to myself. I’d walk with my head held high so the muddling thoughts from the ground wouldn’t cloud my confidence. Last words are so difficult to say and they rip pieces of you on the way out; bits of heart and soul that are muttered into thin air and vanish before your very eyes. I wanted to tell you what I finally learned; that some people are flammable and you can’t get too close because the slightest spark will set you both on fire. Thats all we are anymore, isn’t it? Just two very lonely burn victims, scared of being touched by anybody else.