I wish I could miss you.
I wish I could say it’s sad to leave the neighbourhood, but it’s not.
I wish I could say it’s been lovely living next to you all these years, but it has not.
What is lovely is to take my family and my happiness and my good will and positive attitude – far away.
What is lovely is to know that I will never hear your voice again in the night. In the darkness.
What is lovely is that I will not feel your eyes follow me from the kitchen window, as you stand and curse.
What is lovely is that your misery and abuse have not permeated our happiness and whilst we leave to continue to live with light and joy – you will be left behind with your meanness, madness.
For you are mean. And you own an ugliness that far reaches your face.
I am sad that you choose to live in fear of being liked, for why else would you work so hard to be disliked?
And this long, hard chapter will soon be finished.
And the book will close.