Go now...

I'm standing at the station, waiting for my train to arrive. My bags
are packed, as they have been for many weeks, but today is the day when
I finally came to terms with the fact that I have to leave. I have
thought about this long and hard, night after sleepless night and this
really is the best solution.
When I think about all the people I am leaving behind, I feel a kind of
sadness, a little like the feeling you get when you come home from
holiday and you remember all those friends that you made and how you
promised that you would keep in touch with them.

My dear wife, she is the one that I will miss the most, but I am no
good for her and she needs the space that my leaving will provide to
sort out the problems in the business. We bought a small wool and
textiles shop in Deptford in 1998 and despite our better efforts, it
seemed to be more of a money pit than a viable profit making concern.
However, she loves that shop and I'm sure that, once I am out of the
way, she will finally make a go of it and become a real success. I
won't be here to share in that triumph, of course, but I'm pretty sure
that her lover will be there to bask in that reflected glory.

My family, my brothers and my sister. I have not seen any of them for
the best part of two years, and to be honest, I think that's no bad
thing either. My sister never really forgave me for not becoming an
artist. You see, she had a lot of big plans for me. As her baby brother
I was the one that was going to fulfil all her failed dreams of
becoming a famous and well-respected artist in London. However, you
either have it or you don't... Talent, I mean. I fall into the latter
camp and nothing could be done about it. My painting could be said to
have a certain "child-like" quality to it, but only because I have not
improved a jot since I was in Ms. Pearson's class back in my primary
school.
My brothers are both much older than I am and we were never really what
you'd call close. They would torture me, as a child, telling me that it
wouldn't hurt a bit if I was to take a big mouthful of nettles, or to
touch the glowing bars of our electric fire. Those sorts of things tend
to leave scars far deeper than just the physical ones. The damage was
done and I still feel as if they are ganging up on me behind my back.
They were quite openly hostile to my wife when we revealed that we were
engaged to be married. They took every opportunity to belittle her and
to let her know that they would never allow her into the family circle.
As an aside, I mentioned that they would be doing her an enormous
favour not to have to put up with their smarmy countenances any more
than was absolutely necessary, and she confessed her whole hearted
agreement in this matter. Rather over enthusiastically, I thought.
Later I was to discover that she had been seeing my second eldest
brother on those nights that she told me that she was learning Russian
at the local college.

So, now it's 10:13 and my train will arrive in two minutes.
Leaving this life behind finally and going on to who knows what other
kind of life elsewhere. It's been a long time coming and once I finally
catch that train, it will be forever.
There really can be no going back. I wouldn't want to go back to them
anyway. Maybe they will start to appreciate me after I have left?

In the distance, I see the train making it's way in from the Kent
countryside. It is shimmering in the early heat-haze of this summer's
morning and by degrees, it is bringing freedom closer and closer. I can
hear the rails, singing it's approach. Be brave, we are ready and
willing to go. The train reaches the furthest end of the platform. It's
speed does not diminish and there is a loud two tone blast from it's
horn. There is a warning from the public address system to stand away
from the platform edge. I hear only half of it as I leap in front of
the express.