the final goodbye

the future that always seemed so bright and promising doesn't seem so cheery anymore. it bodes heartache, and i don't know how to thwart it. with the whole world out there, my oyster to explore, i should feel heady with anticipation thinking about all there is to do and see. but when paths diverge so clearly and take me away from you who wants to stay here, how am i supposed to feel joy at picking at what the world has to offer? i want to compromise my dreams for you, only because you mean so much to me and i don't know if i would want to fulfull those faraway dreams if it meant living without you - but at the same time i don't want to compromise those same dratted dreams cos i know i'd regret not even trying to pursue them in life and giving them up, just like that. how do you stop an oncoming train that's going to hit you and break you up to bits? i can run and run, away from that train, but eventually it's gonna catch up with me, like the relentless passage time is. i can't escape from the passing of time. being in this world with its weird laws, i'm subject to it and can't escape. it makes me feel somewhat like a marionette stuck on my strings, able to move and take a life of my own, but still always bound up with that string that keeps me in place. seeing an oncoming train and knowing it's gonna hit you sooner rather than later doesn't make the knowledge of the pain any easier to swallow. why did i have to fall in love with you? -you, with all these aspirations that keep you rooted here so inextricably. i know, i shouldn't fear the future, but 3 years doesn't seem like that short a time anymore from where i am, and the future is starting to take on a reality that i cannot pretend away anymore. fact of the matter is: i don't want to stay here. i want to see the wide world, as cliched as that sounds. perhaps like heros in those old classics, i'll realise that home is still the best place only when i'm far away from home - but i want to live that for myself. what i write about is most true when i feel it, so i must feel if i want to write. and i know that if i want to have lived as i should, i have to write. it's the only tangible talent God has given me, and you tend to treasure what little you have. i'm not like those multihyphenates, with oodles and oodles of talent at singing, playing the guitar, acting, dancing etc. all i perceive i have is just that - and i don't know if it's out of vanity or pride that drives me to want to make full use of it. so maybe i'm full of hot air, maybe i'll never do all the things i want to do, maybe i'm giving myself grief for nothing.

knowing that the goodbye is so final breaks my heart and i cannot help but cry, because i don't know what to do to make it any different. i don't want that to come, that final goodbye. and yet i wonder if it's a matter of time before it catches up on me and ravages me, us, both.