We all leave, don’t we? At some point of time, at some phases of life or from stories that we are no more part of. People tend to move away because what’s better than to leave than being left out to pick all the pieces from damage that’s been done, all the turmoil that’s been created.
We tell goodbies more often than we say hello, we are just finding ways to relinquish, to escape, to vacate asking forgiveness admist our muffled voices, shouts and screamings.
But the truth about moving away is that the ghost of the people and places are still buried in our ribs even when we are the first one to leave, they still clench our throats in the night when the graveyards calls for our soul claming that we are theirs to belong making us believe that choices that we did was wrong. But it wasn’t.
But leaving doesn’t always mean running and it necessarily doesn’t makes us weak. To stop watering wildflowers that used to grow in our walls is equally disheartening as much as watching those petals fall one by one, all dried up from August heat.
Letting go is sometimes what’s best for us, when we’ve been walked upon too many times, taken advantage and when apology comming out of their mouth sounds like habitual patterns.
Since everyone is so quick to judge which is why it more harder to leave. There’s no wondering that to just let go of everything including comfort that we found in-between their finger gaps and soft kisses on our back, shared bedsheets, times caged perfectly in pictures, their initials carved in our collarbones requires relentless audacity, and no one tells you this but it’s okay to move before the strom hits the shore than to wait for the wreckage thats bound to fall.
We have been reading lot, hearing a lot about people to say goodbies first are heartless and unkind, it is devastating how one can break, one can change, one can just turn around and close the door behind, but what if it is us,what if we are the one to abandon, to move away unknowingly, unwillingly or viceversa, and all these books, these songs, these poems failed to tell you that everyone has a reason why they had to stop loving, stop giving and simply stop watering wildflowers and letting them die.
It would be so wrong to assume that the one that broke didn’t bleed at all, we all see the broken glass, how it all shattered and how their blisters are scattered everywhere, and nevertheless we are unable see how those shards had wounded the knuckes so deep that blood is slowly oozzing out and dripping into the ground.
But when anyone walks out it’s easier for us to blame, to pour our angers while cursing their name reckoning that they couldn’t hold on for little long, and their empty promises are why we are crying at our bathroom floors but this doesn’t happen when we are the one to pack our belongings and desert their homes.
We all ache, we all cripple, we all ruin. Just because we are first one to leave doesn’t mean we don’t spend our time lamenting of what we could have been and whereby we shouldn’t have left and now they are actually gone.
Leaving might make us appear strong, it might be why they are drinking their loss in an alcohol, however we also feel numb, we also taste disaster in the form of lonliness, its wanting to want them back again and again, its unsend text messages, it unblocking and then blocking them again.
Leaving requires patience, leaving is love, leaving is brave, and leaving is for self acceptance. And sometimes when all the odds are against us, hope we’ll all have enough courage to leave and just let things go.
लेखक : Santosh Lamichhane
मिती : November, 2018
लेखक : एन. पी. खतिवडा
मिती : 2016
लेखक : Laxmi Prasad Devkota
मिती : Evergreen
लेखक : Santosh Lamichhane
मिती : September, 2015