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Its 11:35 pm and I’m preparing to leave.

I wish I could say I’m leaving for a party, but I’m not. Its 11:35 pm and I’m planning to leave my life behind. I keep packing and unpacking my small sling bag trying to decide what to take a long on the trip. “Pack light. Remember to pack light. Take what you need, not what you want,” I keep telling myself. Because there is no use carrying the memories of the past into a future you are trying to create.

I have spent the past few weeks lying to everyone around me. Telling those issues don’t bother me; laughing away my loneliness; and hiding a new diagnosis. I have locked myself away hoping that people wouldn’t notice my facade was cracking. For those that I couldn’t distance physically, I distanced emotionally. I began to process and reflect on my life over the past few years. I have come to accept that I’m probably the least liked person I know. People find me rude, arrogant and stand-offish. For years people have called me the meaner sister, the person that doesn’t speak to strangers and has no real connection with anyone. And for years I have claimed to be misunderstood, but perhaps I am the one that has failed to understand basic human interaction.

I’m staring at my tiny bag and I know I have to leave. I can’t stay here anymore. There is nothing left for me. I have burnt the bridges that time and neglect failed to destroy. I have lost my direction, and forgotten what I thought was my purpose in life. And even as I try and convince myself that someone will miss my me when I’m gone, a greater part of me knows everyone would be better off without me. Because at times it feels as though the pain and heartache in my soul is infectious; poisoning everyone I come in contact with.

I refuse to be the source of anyone’s pain or anger, for I know the discomfort that comes with having them reside in your heart. So I’m packing my bags and perhaps I’ll leave a note. Maybe I will tell them I love them and lie about coming back. Or maybe I’ll just disappear from their lives and allow my presence to fade from their memory.

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Ros Limbo
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