grind


During the build up to departure everyone expresses deep regret and sadness that you are leaving. Morbidly they tell you how much you will be missed and how desperate they are to say farewell over drinks or dinner. But the final days arrive and no one is anywhere to be seen. The ones whom you really love are silent and distant. Some romantic stirring deep within tries to convince you that they are staying away to protect themselves from the final goodbye but the logic of your mind reminds you that it is simply because they have better things to do and that the hope springing from your loneliness is meaningless against the brutal grind of daily reality. Survival destroys hope... and mundane existence destroys all that is beautiful and poetic.

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