Left and Leaving

When it comes to these terms, I prefer to be the latter, not the former. Not just in terms of relationships, but also simply physically.

That's not to imply that leaving isn't incredibly hard. It is. I just don't enjoy the feeling of helplessness that pervades the body as I watch someone else leave.

Yesterday I left. I changed tenses. I've been waiting to change tenses for almost a year. I'd been leaving for a year, but yesterday was the big day.

Essentials in a suitcase. Guitar housed in its new flight case. Sunglasses on to hide the traces of tears. The rest of my life crammed into a storage locker. Precious dog with the best friend in the world. My little mountain town left behind.

I guess I like being both terms, in the active sense, not the passive. I need to be the epicentre of action I suppose.

An album full of joyous pictures, created by small loving hands, kept me company on the mountainous drive east to Calgary. A red Mustang kept paced with the bus, while a blond-haired beloved girl waved furiously from the passenger seat.

Some things are too precious to leave behind forever. Know that, even though you were left behind, I did not leave for good. Wherever I am, I am always there for you.

I miss you. We will meet again.