I don't know if I would have called it that.

[ Shifting, he sits up then, a glance down to his lap where he covers himself a bit before he leans back on his hands, looking off across the room. ]

I don't really fit in anywhere. Here, back home. I just drift a lot. I don't know where I belong. I feel like I try to, but then some part of me doesn't like it. I feel the need to constantly run. Maybe it's just cause it's what I've always done. Or it's easier to be on your own. I don't know.