Leaving

I am sad because I'm leaving. Still
I know it's better than to not be here
At all. If someone had possessed my will
And made it so I had kept fully clear
Of such a sadness, that would have required
My never coming here at all, and that
Is worse than sadness. All that I desired
Required coming here, and that is pat;
Leaving is just a side-effect, which takes
Some of the joy away, but still somehow
Leaves me still full of it. The joy that makes
Itself still whole despite the absence now
Is truest joy - and that is what is mine.
I will be happy, though I will still pine.