There’s a sadness to walking into a building you once knew.
You expect things to be as they were left, but time has passed.
Time has passed without you, and it’s staggering
The feeling knocks you off balance

When you look into a room and see a new chair in the corner, you feel it.
The new is sleek lines and fabric
The old was paisley, all faded color and torn edges, rough and slumped
and you always said “It’s got to go!”
But here it is, gone, and you miss it
You mourn it
Because it was a part of the room when you were a part of the room
And that chair was a part of your home
And you miss home, so much it burns, but you can’t be here
You can’t go back in time

And, worse
You wonder if, like that chair, there just isn’t a place for you here
As if, where the imprint of your presence was, something else came to be
Because they couldn’t stand the silence
And you chose not to stay.

And when you walk through that doorway, all you can do is remember
And you regret leaving this place.

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