People seem to have this thing where they want to be the one that leaves. I don’t know if it’s because being left is painful or if it is because being left seems to carry some shame with it. I have no interest in leaving first. I never have. I will leave if I have to but I feel no shame at being left. People seem to think leaving means you won; it means you arose victorious over this relationship. You got out before it dragged you down. In most cases I see the opposite. You see I won the argument that most relationships are famous for: I stayed, I loved you more. When all your words turned to lies in your mouth I stood unwavering in what I said and what I felt. It’s not a pride thing, it’s a me thing. I have no interest in winning by leaving, none in self-preservation, or in dodging pain. I only endeavor to pursue love. As a writer I know there is truth to the idea that love is the driving force of story. I do not seek to cut it short, to lesson my pain or theirs. Whether it’s between friends or lovers, I know it’s going to hurt, I simply do not care.