I feel like I'm leaving so much behind.

It's different this time. It's a lot harder, a lot more depressive, a lot being left at stake, a lot left unresolved, a lot remaining in denial.

The thought of coming back to it after a whole year makes me feel even more remorseful.

Why oh why couldn't I have stayed an extra week.

I hate being addicted to someone, it kills me.
I hate good byes.
I hate living across three different continents.
I hate having to leave.
I hate what-ifs.

I hate uncertainty.