Leaving Me Is Easy
I Was Made For Leaving
I knew.
I knew that you were going to leave.
The twelve year old girl lay on her mother’s double bed, watching the rest of the film as her mother slept softly next to her. The girl didn’t pay much attention when her father walked in; thinking nothing of it. He was blocked from her sight by the TV at the end of the bed, and she tried to peer around it.
She watched the older man as he packed a bag. She frowned, but thought nothing of it.
“I’m just going to the shop, princess. Okay?”
She smiles and nods.
He walks out of the bedroom, carrying the bag, and towards the front door. They only live in a small flat and she hears the door open.
“I love you, daddy!” She almost cries, but doesn’t wish to wake her mother.
There’s a pause, and not much more.
“Yeah.. I love you, too.” And the door closes.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew.
I knew that I’d never see you again.
I know that I’ll never see you again; but I keep waiting. Because you didn’t say goodbye and you never said you weren’t coming back.
Five years have passed, and somewhere deep down, daddy, somewhere deep down I’m still twelve years old; and I’m still waiting for you to come home.
But this isn’t home anymore, daddy. We moved -and this doesn’t even feel like my home now.
I just hope that you miss me.
I’m not angry that you left, daddy. I’m not even mad that you couldn’t love me. I just wish you’d told me that you weren’t coming back.
Is she better than mommy, daddy? Are her children better than me? Do they cry less when you leave?
Will you leave them, too, daddy?
They’ve been left before; by a different man. Are you going to hurt them, too?
But me and mom were left before, remember? You’re the one that did the leaving. Do you remember? So how is she more deserving of you?! Why do her children need you more than I do?
..Why didn’t you tell me, daddy? Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?
You left a month after our cat died. A month and exactly twelve days. It was on a Wednesday. It was the day after boxing day, daddy -I still remember.
I remember everyday how you left, I remember how you said I love you, too.
And I’ll remember, daddy, how much it hurt; and daddy? I leave everyone, too, now. I hope you’re proud.
I knew that you were going to leave.
The twelve year old girl lay on her mother’s double bed, watching the rest of the film as her mother slept softly next to her. The girl didn’t pay much attention when her father walked in; thinking nothing of it. He was blocked from her sight by the TV at the end of the bed, and she tried to peer around it.
She watched the older man as he packed a bag. She frowned, but thought nothing of it.
“I’m just going to the shop, princess. Okay?”
She smiles and nods.
He walks out of the bedroom, carrying the bag, and towards the front door. They only live in a small flat and she hears the door open.
“I love you, daddy!” She almost cries, but doesn’t wish to wake her mother.
There’s a pause, and not much more.
“Yeah.. I love you, too.” And the door closes.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew.
I knew that I’d never see you again.
I know that I’ll never see you again; but I keep waiting. Because you didn’t say goodbye and you never said you weren’t coming back.
Five years have passed, and somewhere deep down, daddy, somewhere deep down I’m still twelve years old; and I’m still waiting for you to come home.
But this isn’t home anymore, daddy. We moved -and this doesn’t even feel like my home now.
I just hope that you miss me.
I’m not angry that you left, daddy. I’m not even mad that you couldn’t love me. I just wish you’d told me that you weren’t coming back.
Is she better than mommy, daddy? Are her children better than me? Do they cry less when you leave?
Will you leave them, too, daddy?
They’ve been left before; by a different man. Are you going to hurt them, too?
But me and mom were left before, remember? You’re the one that did the leaving. Do you remember? So how is she more deserving of you?! Why do her children need you more than I do?
..Why didn’t you tell me, daddy? Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?
You left a month after our cat died. A month and exactly twelve days. It was on a Wednesday. It was the day after boxing day, daddy -I still remember.
I remember everyday how you left, I remember how you said I love you, too.
And I’ll remember, daddy, how much it hurt; and daddy? I leave everyone, too, now. I hope you’re proud.