Often there is an unspoken theme in leaving that evokes melancholia. Perhaps it’s the thought that people and things that leave may never have a chance to return. Leaving presupposes that there is someone that is left behind as the other walks away. Seldom do we see and feel pure happiness that someone is about to go places..without you.
I wonder who is sadder: the one leaving or the one left behind? You say it depends on the reason, but does it really? Or is it merely a fleeting flight of fancy that any circumstance of leaving has to be melodramatic.
Spare me the drama.
Tomorrow, I will have been gone anyways.