God, I Am Freaking Out. Maybe He

His Door Is Closed Behind Me. It's Staying Closed. He's Letting Me Go. I Think I've Made Myself Very Clear, But No Ones Stepping Forward To Stop Me. A Lot Of You Cared, Just Not Enough. And That...that Is What I Needed To Find Out. And I Did Find Out. And I'm Sorry.

I Wanted To Tell You Everything. And That Hurt Because Some Things Were Too Scary. Some Things Even I Didn’t Understand. How Could I Tell Someone—someone I Was Really Talking To For The First Time—everything I Was Thinking? I Couldn’t. It Was Too Soon.

I Take A Slow Sip Of Lukewarm Coffee, Reopen The Book, And Read The Words Scribbled In Red Ink Near The Top: Everyone Needs An Olly-olly-oxen-free.

And It Feels Strange, Almost Sad, To Walk Through Ther Empty Halls. Each Step I Take Sounds So Lonely.

And Everyone Knows You Can’t Disprove A Rumor.