Good Goodbyes

I read the last words of the message

"I'm sorry, Henry"

I waited awhile for the response. It definitely wasn't what I was expecting. It wasn't the first time I'd told her how I felt, it was the third time in a year since I met her. The first time was right after we went seperate ways. We were travelling in a far away place. It was more like a summer love story. But it was nice, we were happy.

We met at a bar and she was lovely in her black dress. She was dancing and caught my eye. You see, there's two types of people dancing at a bar: there are those who dance comfortably to fit in and there are those who fucking dance blissfully and close their eyes and let their body go with an energy that says, "fuck you I'll dance how I want". She was the latter, and I loved it. Everytime I looked over she smiled at me but she was with someone else so I left it alone but I noticed whenever he came up to her, she would just brush him away or dance with him in a friendly way. And still every so often I'd glance over and she'd glance right back and give me that mischevious smile.

I went outside for a cigarette and to get some fresh air. I stood by the entrance of the bar, next to some chairs with tables and ashtrays. I'm not gonna lie I was pretty drunk and ready to go home but she came outside a few minutes later and sat in the chair beside me.

"How come you didn't talk to me", she said

"Well.. you were with that guy. I didn't want to get inbetween you two"

She stood up and put her hand out signaling for the cigarette. I handed it to her and she took a long drag.

"Come on", she said and grabbed my hand and pulled me to the bar.

"Two tequilas"

And so we drank.

And drank.

And drank some more.

Next thing I know I'm on the dance floor with her so close to me. You were running your hands through my chest and stomach, lifting it up just slightly, and swaying evenly with the music.

We went outside again and just as we started talking the other guy shows up madly drunk. He says he's lost and doesn't know how to get back home and she rolls her eyes and say that she has to take him home. I didn't really feel bad about her leaving. I actually admired the fact that she wanted to take care of someone else. She gave me her number, a kiss on the cheek, and she was off. That was the night we met.

A few days later we ran into each other again and it was really easy. We talked, and laughed, and loved. We spent three weeks with eachother, every day a new adventure. It was three wonderful weeks. Boarding flights flying in different directions, to different parts of the world, was not easy.

A few weeks later I messaged her. I think I missed her. I missed all of it. Being on the road, the thrill of the unknown, the adventure of the next moment. In a way she embodied all of that. I told her that she was one of the most outstanding people I'd ever met and I meant it. She said she wasn't good at these conversations and apologized and changed the subject. I can't say that I was devastated. This was a woman I only knew briefly but something inside me kept a flicker of hope but still let it go, almost.

Some months went by and girls came and went. But nothing came close to the way I felt before. It was hard meeting someone like her, someone so alive and beaming.

I got outrageously drunk one night and thought it'd be a good idea to message her and I did. Once again I said that I missed her and I got the same response. So I accepted and wished her the best, told her if she ever needed anything I was here for her, and I let it go, almost.

A year went by and sometimes you'd write and sometimes I'd write about nothing big but still in a small place in my mind I always went back to her and I never knew why. I still don't.

Last night I got absolutely outrageously drunk and I did it one last time.

" You know, sometimes I kind of miss you" I wrote

Nothing. A few minutes go by. Still nothing. I go outside for a cigarette to get my mind off it and when I come back I see my phone flashing. It was a notification from you. I opened it slowly.

"I'm sorry, Henry"

This time I actually laughed. I didn't feel sad. I felt almost relieved. This whole time, despite the rejection I always kept a tiny sliver of hope but this time it was almost like the punchline to a long and cruel joke. But I still laughed. I thought, "why the hell do I still like this girl?" She was always kind, and made time for me when I did write but that was it. It really made me think about how love works and how its so awfully cruel. You can love someone and keep them in your thoughts but the truth is that it's not enough for someone else to feel the same. You can care about someone and wish them all the good in the world but still they might not spare a thought back for you. That was a hard realization, but a good one. Now I can put effort into people that are willing to give back what you give.

"There's nothing to apologize for. Take care of yourself" and that was that. It was a good goodbye.