Goodbyes are never easy, save for the times you just can't wait to get out of that awkward situation. Evasive eyes and shifty feet make for very very quick exits.
As my ex-boss would quip, to every proper English school teacher's daughter, even the bad feeling byes must seem good. Even riddance is good!
And yes, just in case you did catch my quick thrown in, yes, i did say ex.
So i quit my job. The job I always thought was my dream, the one i saw when i closed my eyes and imagined. And yet in a day filled with goodbyes (which I must admit i avoided like the plague) , never did i really once feel all that good.
Don't get me wrong, long ago it was decided that there was little room for any kind of regret whatsoever. But I guess after you have given so much to the war, the irony is that it becomes hard to sleep without the sounds of the guns.
Where the struggle has taken its toll on the sunshine of your glow, why does liberation bring forth renewed emptiness?
Maybe we complain about the dirty rat race, but secretly shudder to leave the cage, content to circle within the boundaries of bottle- neck familiarity.
It truly is a big big world where the power to roam free draws in its counterpart of uncertainty.
The toss up. The neccessary statistician in all of us, always weighing the pros and cons.
For tonight, I think i will celebrate choice despite the risks it brings.
Maybe tomorrow I will celebrate the power of my liberation despite the doors that have already been closed.
Perhaps bye is good for on we move.
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