Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Leaving. We do it everyday without blinking an eye. We take our leave because we know we are coming back, that our path invariably winds through the same locations. But life gets in the way, and weeks can go by without us ever meaning for it, though nothing more miraculous than a change in the wind is all that’s needed to move us back into converging paths. There are some who take their leave often and impulsively, while others seem resigned to wait. There is the kind of leaving whose longevity always seems cruel to someone. The kind of leaving with tears in both senses of the word. It might be instigated by the one taking their leave, or by outside forces which compel one to move on. Either way, most often there is distance and the sense of missing another who belongs with you. And then there is the kind of leaving which is final. For those left behind it is oppressive and often unexplained. We leave people we never wanted to part from and often never know why. This is the leaving that clenches us inside with an unrelenting grip. Whether the enforcer be man or nature, this is the leaving which in the proper environment can define an entire life. No matter the type, however, we cannot control who we leave. Day in and day out there is life to be living, choices to be choosing, and paths we must diverge from. But what we can control, is who we come back to and how we greet the ones who make it back to us.
Posted by Britt at 11:38 PM