This is the end. We were all moving on inertia anyway and now it’s all going to be over. We had our moments of highs and our moments of lows and the echoes are still there, a hat tip there, a knee-jerk there but it’s all getting so old. How do people not get bored of the same things – the familiarity of everything after a while is brutal – stagnation the most fetid sort of death.
And so we get up, push ourselves up and force ourselves to get out of the putrid warmth and faux comfort that we have grown accustomed to. There are still shadows of the things we loved here – but the real things are long gone. The things that remain are just reflections. And so we go because we know we must and we say…
Goodbye lovers and friends. And even if things have gotten a little stale, like living in the same neighborhood you’ve grown up since you were just a little child – it’s still more than a little sad and hard to go, to not turn around just one more time. And you know full-well that you will never ever return.
