What place in the world do you never want to visit? Why?

I don’t overthink this one. Not even a little. The place I never want to visit again sits on a perfectly ordinary street, probably with a trimmed lawn and a mailbox that still pretends everything is fine. My ex wife’s house.

That place isn’t a home. It’s a museum of bad decisions. Every wall probably still holds echoes of arguments that went nowhere, conversations that circled the drain, and silence that somehow screamed louder than anything else. You walk in and the air feels heavy, like it knows you shouldn’t be there but lets you suffer anyway.

People romanticize closure. They think going back fixes something. It doesn’t. It just reopens doors that should’ve been welded shut. I don’t need closure. I need distance. Real distance. The kind that doesn’t come with a spare key or a “just stopping by” excuse.

There’s nothing there for me. Not memories worth keeping. Not peace. Definitely not answers. Just a version of me that stayed too long, tried too hard, and ignored every red flag like it was decorative.

And let’s be honest. Walking back into that house would feel like volunteering for a sequel nobody asked for. The plot already sucked the first time. Why would I sit through it again?

Some places in the world are dangerous. Some are overrated. Some are just boring. That house manages to be all three without even trying. It’s not on any map worth following, but it might as well be labeled “Do Not Enter” in bold, permanent ink.

I don’t hate the place. Hate takes energy. That house doesn’t get that from me anymore. It gets nothing. No visits. No curiosity. No nostalgia. Just a clean, quiet absence.

There’s a weird kind of power in deciding you’re done. Not angry. Not bitter. Just done. Like flipping a switch and realizing the noise is gone. That house? It’s just a building now. And I don’t go out of my way to visit empty buildings that once drained the life out of me.

I’ll take literally anywhere else. A random highway. A gas station at 2AM. Somewhere loud, somewhere quiet, somewhere alive. Just not there.

Not ever again.