I’m going to begin packing today.

I’ll wait to wash my clothes, so I won’t have to worry about that, when it’s about time to go.

I am once again leaving the man, that left me so many times before.

I left behind people and things, just to get here, and now I have to leave what I left them for.

No matter what you do or where you go, you’ll always be leaving something behind.

I don’t really know what I’ll be going back to, an unfamiliar “home”, and new people to get used to, new problems to accept?

The amount of change I am forced to continue to go through, and the people I am forced to leave behind, leaves the empty feeling in my chest, growing fuller as each day passes.

An emptiness so present that the space is now occupied, emptiness so present that it hurts.

Leaving him again, for something that I don’t even know, something that may not even last long.

The emptiness like a bubble growing bigger, as each thing in my life changes.

That bubble taking over my body, leaving me empty, and aching for something new, something that won’t just disappear in a few months.

I sit next to him, he’s doing his own thing, and I am too, but at least I’m thinking of him as I do.

Head feels empty, just the words I am typing playing back to me once more, I don’t know what to do, so I continue to write.

I wonder if he’ll cry, or if it’ll just be my tears falling, as I walk away from him.