Leaving

Stepping out.
Finally out from his sight.

"It's a start," I wanted to say.
But the words didn't come out right.
And someone finally said it for me.

"It's a start,
Try to live for yourself,
Not for the memories,
Laugh and cry for yourself,
Not for someone who finally moved on,
Be with the people who actually cared for you when I'm not there,
Because I wanted to."

He said all that.
He won't be there when I'm home.
When I leave,
I don't expect to be more happy,
Or even satisfied with life more than I am now,
I just want to appreciate those who reciprocate my feelings.
Them.
Him.
But not that particular person.
Because if I'm being truly honest with myself,
I wanted to hurt him.
So that he will feel the world I'm living in.
The world I desperately trying to get out of.
The world I'm leaving.
Please let me leave.