what are you doing here

Chicago. I have nothing here for me, but I can't seem to find a reason to leave this city.

I fell in love with the city when I was young and naive. I fell in love in the city while I was still young and naive. I think I am still so young and naive and maybe that's why I can't leave.

There has been no lesson learned. Only past mistakes aching to be re-made. Only breaking my heart to have something to talk about over cocktails. Only old flames coming back to burn me. Only splitting open old wounds just to see where it bleeds this time.

Maybe one day I'll grow old of the pain and I'll find joy in joy again.

Until then I ask myself "what are you doing here?"