Please accept this letter as my formal resignation from the present.
Know with all gravity that this was not an easy decision to make. But I feel that the world and the burdens it places are not as I had hoped. When I place my feet on temporary ground, I feel the madness of galaxies exploding above our heads. It is visible, and it is loud. The job is to pretend not to notice, and the denial of honesty has been difficult for me. I have sown myself into the wild and timely world, and I have reaped a thirsty soul. Again and again.
I have grown into you far enough to admit that this position is not for me. I cannot stop sucking in air when my lungs get scared. I cannot stop the chattering when my knees begin to shiver. I cannot swallow the world any faster than it can swallow me, and I am not the same person you raised from the dead. Although I once believed I could be with you forever, I no longer feel that you and I have anything to learn from one another.
I will never forget that you taught me to breathe. I will never forget the saltwater rain of good days, days when fingers wrapped around mine real safe and for a second there was hope to survive. You showed me mountains and molehills to fight and to savor, and I am grateful. But nothing changes the lightness of my footsteps as I decide to move on.
I apologize for the inconvenience you have caused me, and I accept the grace of your letting me go. I have begun to dance far away from the past like a ghost, and I’m afraid I have no help to offer from here.
I wish you all the best.