I’m quitting because I’m going to miss you all
I’m quitting because I’m happy here
I’m quitting because I missed my friend’s funeral
I’m quitting because I won’t look for another job unless I need one
I’m quitting because I’m terrified
I’m quitting because I’m comfortable
I’m quitting because I want to find out, I want to discover and learn
I’m quitting because the days that customers don’t abuse me feel wrong
I’m quitting because minimisation, desensitisation, numbness are everyday
I’m quitting because I can’t stand the exhausting loneliness of staying positive
I’m quitting because working while sick is optional
I’m quitting because it’s unethical to work for a megacorporation that pumps the ocean full of
plastic and crams the dumps full of cardboard, too lazy and greedy to fix themselves
I’m quitting because I want a break
I’m quitting because I don’t want to break
snapped, crumbled, torn apart
eroded like a rock on the beach, waves washing over me until my stone is sand
slowly transformed from a whole to a thousand invisible pieces, formless, malleable, ready to be sculpted
I’ve seen it happen
why now? the ocean asks, waves still crashing
why not now?
when does patience become inaction?
when does impulsiveness become courage?
you haven’t thought this through. you’re right
but I have felt this through, thoroughly: I’m through
I’ve listed fifteen reasons and that’s not enough
there is no enough
there’s no limit to reasons
there is, however, a limit to feelings, a limit our bodies alert us to with the tears that tumble
from our eyes
let’s count our feelings instead
I’ll start: I count one
how about you?
Adam Osborne is a third-year creative writing student with a passion for tragedy and making people laugh. He enjoys writing character-driven pieces and dreams of a career as a showrunner.