Good Enough to Leave

A conversation with my potential...

The floor creaked as I came to.

I reached for the chair and pulled it in.

Click… click… click…

The boards beneath it spoke as the legs dragged across the floor.

With a gentle swing and a pull—

I sat down across from him expecting something heavier.

​​A lecture.

A warning.

Maybe even disappointment.

Instead… he just looked at me like he already knew how this was going to go.

There he was—fifteen years my senior—hidden in the shadows behind the sunlight beaming into my face. I could see him… but not clearly. Just enough to know it was me.

“Still doing that thing we do?” he asked.

I didn’t need to ask what he meant.

“Doing what?”

He smirked. Not mocking. Familiar.

“Getting things to 90%… and then walking away like you proved something.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

I shifted in the chair, rolled my shoulders, scratched at my face.

“It’s not like that,” I said. “I just… I see what’s next.”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “You always have.”

He leaned forward. The boards creaked under the shift of his weight.

Elbows on knees. Hands together.

The top of his head caught the light for a moment—but still, I couldn’t make him out.

“That’s never been the problem.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Silence sat there for a second.

Not awkward. Just… accurate.

Like I was talking to myself.

“You know what I thought would change?” he said.

“That eventually you’d run out of ideas… and be forced to stick with something.”

I let out a small laugh. “That hasn’t happened.”

“No,” he said. “It doesn’t happen.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

He leaned back, studying me—not judging… just recognizing.

“You’ve been calling it growth,” he said.

“Iteration. Optimization. Refinement.”

A slight shake of his head. I could hear his fingers brush along his jaw's five o'clock shadow.

“And sometimes it is.”

... “But sometimes… it’s just the easiest way for us to leave before it asks more of us.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

That one landed.

Not because it was harsh.

Because it was true.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m not saying it to knock you,” he added.

“I’m saying it because I know how good you are… and how close you keep getting.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

“You don’t quit when things are bad,” he continued.

“You quit when they’re good enough to walk away from.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

I looked down at my hands.

Because I knew exactly what he meant.

The projects.

The ideas.

The things that could’ve kept going… but didn’t.

Not because they failed.

Because they worked.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“So what changes?” I asked.

He didn’t answer right away.

He just let it sit there… like the question actually mattered.

Finally—

“You stop asking what’s next,” he said.

“And you start asking what’s worth staying for.”

He let that sit for a second.

“The ones you stayed with?” he said quietly.

“Those are the ones that built everything you’re looking for.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

No big speech. No grand plan.

Just… clarity.

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Because hitting a home run was never the issue.

You still have to run the bases"

The question has always been—

Are you willing to stay in the game long enough to matter?"

~~~~~~~~~~~

​I woke up after that.

Hands cradled under my face like a kid.

Morning light pushing through the blackout shades…

telling me it was time to get up.

I laid there for a minute… staring at the brightness of the red clock.

Not thinking about what’s next.

Thinking about what I’ve been leaving.