Leaving was the Easiest Thing I Have Ever Done

Sometimes it's easier to run. Leaving was the easiest thing I have ever done. I clawed my way out. staying there was going to be my downfall. I would have died trying to save the people and the place that saved me. At the time I thought that leaving would be the best thing that happened to me. Sure it was easy but it didn't hurt any less. It hurt a lot. It still hurts sometimes. I have a lot of regret about the way I left. I was thinking about what was best for me not about the people that I left behind.

I'm only human I've made some mistakes I live with it but I don't really sleep that well anymore. I'm unsure if that is because of my guilt or my depression. I always hoped I get away and then I did. Now I'm not quite sure what to do. I'm sorry I left so suddenly; I made up my mind a long time ago. I knew the choice I was making when I made it but I somehow don't feel any better now. I left in the morning with everything I owned alone. I'm sure my mother understood why I did what I had to do But it breaks my heart a little bit every time I think about it.

Walking out of my front door was the easiest thing I have ever done. It also hurt me the most in the long run. I do not regret what I did then though it hurts when I remember way back then. Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story. I do not think that my staying was going to fix anything. I was trying to fix myself and I couldn't do that staying where I was. I wanted to move on. I needed to move on. It was for the best. I needed to focus on myself and not just New York.

Home isn't where you are from, it's where you find light when all grows dark. The home wasn't New York. I'd spent 18 years of my life somewhere I never truly felt like I belonged. Turns out it probably wasn't New York but the people I was spending my time with. I was expecting that once I left I would immediately start to feel better. I did feel better but something was missing. This isn't the life I wanted for myself. I am really good at isolating myself. I am constantly trying to explain to myself that I left for a good reason.

It was New York's absence that made me realize how much it really matters. Out there I stood a better chance. Maybe I should have wanted less. Perhaps I should have ignored the bowl in me burning to be filled. I love New York but it taught me to be cold. I dream each night of some version of New York. I have to remember that love brought me here. The love I have for myself for the people I love. I remember being told that the good ones leave. It helps to tell the people I love to come here. The answers I needed could never be found at home. The love I needed was never found at home but the thought of me forgetting terrifies me. Once I realized how unhappy I was at home I knew I needed to get out. I make it easier for people to leave by making them hate me a little. It made it easier for myself and for everyone I love.