My Boy Is Moving On
There is a lingering thought that stayed with me since I came back home. Although my body is here, my mind keeps flying to where you are, where I used to be. I can't help but to think that that girl still lives there, that she's still going on her usual routine as before I left. It opens up all possibilities of being near you, of seeing you now and again, of having an entirely different life. That lucky girl, I keep thinking, I wish I had stayed like she did.
Then, a couple days ago, you told me: you're moving away. The future isn't decided yet, but whatever the outcome, you're still going. I was instantly excited for you. This new place sounds awesome and it's about time you're moving on with your life. I couldn't be happier for you. But it later on occurred to me that you'll be leaving a huge chunk of our memories behind-including your bedroom walls that I painted on. Every night when I fantasise about giving you a surprise visit or having stayed and sleeping in your arms, I dream of that room-those teal walls, that tiny bed, the carpeted floor. This new place will be somewhere I've never even heard of before, I won't know how to get there in my sleep, I won't be able to sneak straight into your room when you're away. This new place won't have the teal walls I painted with your favourite characters for you or even my figure forever imprinted on the sheets.
Much later did I realise something else: this move will erase that alternate 'me,' the girl who stayed. Because she stayed for you-only for you. She could have stayed for some other reasons, but, ultimately, you're the anchor. If you move away, there will cease to be any reason for her to be there. All this regret of leaving I accumulated was based on the fact that I could've been there close to you, until we both up and go back home. But that's not going to be the case anymore, so there's no more reason for me to doubt my decision.
I realise, this means I can finally let go.
I know this doesn't mean that you're going home, that we're going to see each other again soon, that finally this whole distance is abolished, but I feel relieved by this change. You will move someplace I'd never even heard of before, somewhere I never even got close to, starting almost from zero-knowing practically nobody there. There is no possibility of me coming along with you, had I stayed-not more so than now I've left. No matter which decision I made, distance was inevitable after all-and I'd rather be working towards something I love and have been dreaming of for over 15 years meanwhile. There is no reason for her to be there anymore, living an alternate life for me, a ghost walking the streets of that small town I used to live in.
The wheel that seemed to stop moving for a while is finally back in motion. I know you're pessimistic about the future, but I believe in you and I always, always pray for your endeavours. We will both prevail.
Please, God, let me visit this temporary home of his one day too.