I Am Leaving

By Sanika Bhatia

Now that it’s only a year left,

leaving feels too real.

Too close.

Too soon.

Like standing on a bridge that’s already crumbling,

and no matter how tight I hold on,

I am slipping through the cracks.

There’s this quiet shift,

a pulling away that no one speaks of,

but I feel it like a ghost in the room.

They know I’m leaving.

So they stop holding on.

And I can’t blame them.

Why open your heart

to someone who won’t stay?

Why love what’s already turning to memory?

It’s strange—

I’ve always been the one left behind,

watching doors close,

learning to live with empty spaces.

But now, I’m the one walking away.

And it doesn’t feel like freedom.

It feels like tearing myself apart

and leaving the pieces behind,

hoping someone will remember

what I used to be.

I should be excited,

shouldn’t I?

That’s what they tell me.

But I am more afraid than anything.

Because I found something here—

a place that felt like home,

people who made me real,

who saw the parts of me

I was too scared to claim.

And now I have to leave them behind.

Not just them—

but the version of me they brought to life.

The future is a fog,

wide, open, and terrifying.

Not knowing is one thing.

Leaving is another.

Walking away from hands

that knew how to hold me

before I even knew how to be held.

From voices that echoed back

the person I was too afraid to be.

Never been this open before.

Never felt so seen.

It’s freeing,

but it’s also suffocating.

Because now I know

what I will never have again.

But in the end—

who cares?

It’s just leaving.

It’s just people.

It’s just a place.

It’s just the only place

I’ve ever felt like myself.

It’s just everything.

And if I say it enough times,

maybe I’ll believe it.

Maybe it won’t hurt.

Maybe it won’t feel like I’m breaking.

I am leaving.

I am leaving.

I am—

God, I don’t want to go.

By Sanika Bhatia