Turn off the light,” she says as she walks away, creating a small woosh that smells sweet and chemical. It makes me sad because it’s the smell she makes when she’s leaving.
This is how I disappear in pieces.
This is how I leave without moving from my place.
This is how I dance away.
This is how I’m gone before you wake.
I left the only way you can leave. You pull your life off all at once – like a Band-Aid.
Angry at him for leaving without a word, angry at myself for being so easy to leave and for not being enough to make him want to stick around.
I’m guilty of giving people more chances than they deserve but when I’m done, I’m done.
…and that, in the end, the most interesting people always leave.
I know absolutely nothing about where I’m going. I’m fine with that. I’m happy about it. Before, I had nothing. I had no life, no friends, and no family really, and I didn’t really care. I had nothing, and nothing to lose, and then I knew loss. What I cared about was gone; it was all lost. Now I have everything to gain; everything is a clean slate. It’s all blank pages waiting to be written on. It’s all about going forward. It’s all about uncertainty and possibilities.
Brooklyn was a dream. All the things that happened there just couldn’t happen. It was all dream stuff. Or was it all real and true and was it that she, Francie, was the dreamer?
I make it easier for people to leave by making them hate me a little.
A spiritual pilgrim needs to discern when his or her life is stunted in an old field and find the courage and determination to go to a “new land” that the Lord will show. (Abraham-Journey) …so that you can find the wholeness you seek.