Leaving

I feel the sadness welling up inside of me, slowly building and looming in my heart.
Heavy, deep, blue, I don’t know how else to describe it.
I want to feel the sting, endure the ache, to taste the salt.
Waiting for the geyser, still there is no release.
Why isn’t there an emotional button that says PUSH ME and I can just cry?

I’m living in a dream—
Excited for the morning, but not yet ready to face the sun.
Although I’m still here, I miss it already:
The people, though they surround me;
The places, though still I pass by them.
Regrets of friendships not cultivated, gratitude unexpressed,
Lost chances to build more memories and prolong moments that won’t come again.

But it needn’t end now, for with each ending comes a new beginning.
Pieces of my heart I leave behind, but they aren’t forgotten.
Nor is my heart flawed or incomplete with these holes,
But is has grown, expanded, and will be filled as I share more.
I’m filled with sadness, yet surrounded by love.
Grateful for the chance to lose and live, to feel and be filled,
Grateful for paradoxical feelings.

April Murdock
8.2003