This too shall pass.

The tables have turned and the cards are in my favour. I am getting out of here. I feel the heavy weight lifted off my shoulder. I was asked if I wanted to stick around a little bit longer, but I care no more for the extra money or learning opportunities. I am more than ready to drop everything and get out of here. I was told that if I ever worked through my “issues”, I could come back. I almost let slip a smirk. You said I was good at what I did and I had the personality to do the work. Sweet. And I would like to believe that you meant all the kind things you said. Maybe you do a little. But somewhere deep inside, I have learnt to not trust everything you say. You might just forget or change your mind tomorrow. I wish I could tell you to your face that you were part of the reason for my “issues”, for my anxieties and struggles of being here. But there is just too much fear. Too much power and control. Too much breathing down my neck. I was warned that all hell would break loose when I tender my resignation. It happened for everyone who had left before me. Alas, it did not for me, yet the days and hours leading up to this D-day had been a torture of nightmares and sleepless nights. I still wonder if and whether the volcano might erupt any moment in my last two months of serving notice. I also know I have my own monsters of self-doubt and maybe years of baggages to overcome and heal from. But here is the thing: I am good with people. I am intuitive. I am a diligent worker. I pick things up fast. I believe in humanity. I had set the stage right. I had reached out and tugged at your heart’s strings for a little compassion. I did what I had to do to ensure my safety, sanity and well-being. And my grand plan had worked. People come, people go. I belong to everywhere and nowhere, and most definitely not you.

Peace out.

“Somewhere in my youth or childhood, I must have done something good.”

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