How much more suffering do I have to bare? The excitement I felt when I left still hangs in the air like the rising waves of a mirage, shimmering, whispering.
I counted backwards for months until I felt the wheels of the airplane leave the earth, 0 days, 0 minutes, 0 seconds.
I did my penance, I paid for my crimes. I shut that door so triumphantly, victorious over time itself. I fooled myself into thinking I would not feel the crushing loneliness again. It slowly bleeds me out, weighs down on me like a million hands, pushing down until I can't raise my head.
A chill passes through me as breathe in the emptiness, 120 days, 5 hours, 23 seconds.
See, leaving is easy, running away is easy, escaping is easy. But coming back to the mess you've left, the hearts you've broken, the echoes of your tears?
Leaving is easy; it's coming back that kills you.
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