She looked at me with eyes that told me she was content, as she put her arm around me. "Why do you have to leave?" she asked sadly. After sitting in silence for a few minutes, she said "But I want you to go. I just don't like it." "I know", I replied quietly.
Leaving is hard. Always. No matter how many times I do it, it never changes. The problem is love...but the joy is also love. How blessed am I, that I have so many people on different continents whom I love?
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