Learn to Leave (By Menelaos Lountemis) | Word Meditations 8/366

*Some days you need to meditate through another’s words. Today’s post is an original translation of the piece “Learn to Leave” by Greek author Menelaos Lountemis.

Learn to leave. From the safety of perforated embraces.
From handshakes that haunt you.
From the memory of a pseudo-happiness.
Leave — quietly, silently, without screams, drawn-out goodbyes.
Don’t take anything with, neither mementos, nor jackets for the road.
Run far away from supposed shelters even it’s hailing outside. 
Learn to look deel into the eyes when you say goodbye and not down or into space.
Mean your words, don’t demean them, please. 
Learn to look at the hourglass, to be seeing that your time is up. 
No hugs, letters, dedications, at some point we’ll meet again my love.
(All the evenings and songs won’t ever be yours — accept it.)
Stop loving the Future, when all you have is the Present.
Leave from where you don’t know why you’re there — from there where they don’t know why they keep you.
Part with songs that you loved, places you walked.
You don’t have as limited of an imagination as you think. 
You can make brand new stories, with new heaven and salt.
Let them bring to mind a bit of fall, much summer and that boundless Spring.
Leave from there where they don’t give you what you need.
From the disporportioned, the mediocre and the little.
Demand to get back what you give — you don’t owe them.
Learn to respect your love, your time and your heart.
Don’t beleive what they say — love is not inexhaustible, it ends.
The heart breaks, you’ll be beating it one day and it won’t be working.
Understand that second chances are for slaves, third ones for the ridiculous.
Don’t fear the word-meaning correspondece, call a relationship relationship, a mockery mockery.
Argue with yourself sometimes that wastes away crying like a baby and you waste your time giving it a lollipop that the nursling may not get upset.
Learn to look for loves reminiscent of Casablanca, not contracts of limited time.
And learn to leave from there where you never really existed.
Leave even if it seems like they’re uprooting your child from the womb. 
Leave for all the things you though real, in case you ever manage to get to them.