I'm leaving.. again
You get back on the flight to paradise
I find out from a note taped to the door
I think I saw your aeroplane in the sky somewhere
Through the window lying on the kitchen floor
I'm leaving again. And this time it will be much more difficult than any other time. There are many things that I usually want to bring along with me every time I go back, but I leave behind due to luggage space or just plain lack-of-need. But this time there's a person I want to bring along, a person that has made the place I'm going back to a special place. I cannot. And I'm scared about what this might do. I know it will hurt, and it will be a while before it will feel ok. And since I'm the one who's making the decision to go away then it's (probably) my fault if it fails. I don't want it to fail.
I get through this by not thinking about the word 'last'. Last date, last kiss, last hug... I'm trying not to attach significance to each final act or occasion, but even if I don't put labels on it, it is what it is. The next time we'll get to physically meet is a misty "five months away", in quotations because even that is not sure. I want to be back in December, to see him, my family, my friends.
I hate uncertainty but I have to do it, because the one thing I'm certain about is the regret that I'll feel if I don't.
I find out from a note taped to the door
I think I saw your aeroplane in the sky somewhere
Through the window lying on the kitchen floor
I'm leaving again. And this time it will be much more difficult than any other time. There are many things that I usually want to bring along with me every time I go back, but I leave behind due to luggage space or just plain lack-of-need. But this time there's a person I want to bring along, a person that has made the place I'm going back to a special place. I cannot. And I'm scared about what this might do. I know it will hurt, and it will be a while before it will feel ok. And since I'm the one who's making the decision to go away then it's (probably) my fault if it fails. I don't want it to fail.
I get through this by not thinking about the word 'last'. Last date, last kiss, last hug... I'm trying not to attach significance to each final act or occasion, but even if I don't put labels on it, it is what it is. The next time we'll get to physically meet is a misty "five months away", in quotations because even that is not sure. I want to be back in December, to see him, my family, my friends.
I hate uncertainty but I have to do it, because the one thing I'm certain about is the regret that I'll feel if I don't.