Leaving behind.

I can't help myself from looking out of the window. They say, in order to move forward with your life, you cannot look back. Then again, what happens when you are not leaving but leaving behind?

I am sitting here in the plane, waiting for the passengers to finish boarding. I reckon most of them are either going back from a sadly short vacation or going home. Most of them wear a hijab and are alone so I'm assuming they are all students and are going back for their holidays.

Taking off is slow as usual. It is as if it's giving me a chance to jump off the plane and yell "I'm not leaving!". The temptation to do so gets stronger as the plane starts to get on the take off lane.

"We're ready for take off," says the captain and my brain switches to full panic mode. "Wait, I'm staying" Obviously I was too late and all I can do is just sit here helplessly as the plane flies off full speed in to the air.

My eyes desperately tries to take in every familiar building that swishes by; My brain tries to recall where every single building is and their purposes. Secretly, I was searching frantically for my house, in hopes of catching a last glimpse of it, even though I know damn well that it's on the other side of the city.

As the plane disappears off into the clouds, sadly with me in it, I was forced to stay in my seat and just accept the fact that I am flying off. So, what happens when you're not leaving but leaving behind? They don't tell you anything about it but I'll tell you now that it's not bad to look back. After all, all your stories, your dreams, your beginning started there. It's only fair that you never ever forget that.