Like a moth drawn to a flame.
More likely, like an adult human girl running towards a rampaging tire fire. Why are we always drawn to the things that destroy us?
Not burn, destroy. Bugs aren’t burned by flames or bug zappers; they’re killed. Obliterated. Have you ever seen the YouTube video of a fly in slo-mo hitting a zapper? His head pops off. It’s fucking gross. You’re welcome. The same thing happens to humans when we revisit the shitty, shitty past. You’re not hurt, you’re devastated. Broken down. Every time I’ve thought going back to something was a great idea, I’ve ended up licking my wounds, out of emotional commission for a month. I’ll never learn. Anytime an opportunity presents itself, I’ll run right back into the arms of something comfortable and familiar. And it’ll bite me for the same reasons it did last time.
Don’t look back. Don’t go back. There was a reason you left, and it’s usually a good one. Don’t be the stupid girl in a horror movie.
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