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Departures

Roxanne Noor


We were together in the indigo swept mountains of Thailand before I left him for the Mediterranean sea. When we lived together on a Thai island, I left him for New York. When we stayed together in a village in Turkey, I left him for Mumbai.


“You always leave me,” he said while we drove to the airport. It was pouring rain on the highway and the street lights cast a river of gold onto the concrete.


Why am I perpetually departing? I don’t find joy in the distance. I touch his body in my dreams. Longing lays itself upon my lap every morning. I am in love and I contradict its impulse to stay.


I leave because I am glad to have something to miss. I leave because I want to converse with solitude again. I leave because there's a life outside of him. I leave because I answer the world's call.


When he rolls my luggage to the airport terminal, he kisses me goodbye and it tastes different. “See you soon” he says every time I go. My heart swells in gratitude and pain. When he walks away, he turns around once more to wave goodbye. Our eyes meet as partners and friends and family, before he watches me go.


This simple gesture is supremely loving; allowing what you love to be free.



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