Goodbyes

It's not an easy thing, you know, it always comes with grief. Well, maybe there are some happy goodbyes, but most of them are sad. There are millions I could say, but I'll only use a few.

There are the real goodbyes, the ones where you get old and are ready for a long rest. There are the heartbreaking goodbyes, the ones where lovers say they'd rather be apart; when your friends stop answering your calls. There are the leaving goodbyes, where you are moving away, and will never see that little town again, will never get that letter they promised to write. Finally, there are the lost goodbyes. These are the worst for me, that feeling when you know you can't save someone. That sinking guilty feeling that makes you wish you did more.

My real goodbye came with my great-grandpa. I didn't know him that well, I said hi when we went to visit, I gave him hugs and said I loved him, but I didn't know him. I didn't mind until the funeral came, then the world came crashing down, and I felt like crying in front of strangers. The military men honored him as a brother, and the whole thing felt so important, yet I didn't know him all that well.

My heartbreak goodbye, when I knew he was ditching me when I knew he hated my guts. We didn't say anything, but it stung worse than any time I'd failed a soccer game. Half of it was I knew it was my fault, but I didn't know how to say I'm sorry.

My leaving goodbye was when I moved twice. First, when I left my hometown of southern accents and pool parties with my one neighbor, second when I left the chilly north. My first real school, my first real friends, my first love for books, and amazing teachers. The days I would remember the amazing people, but can never talk to them again.

And finally, my lost goodbye. When I knew there was no saving that soul from the past never left behind. He turned his back on my telling him to change, and leave the hate behind. I told him to shove the dirty stuff into a hole, but he didn't want to listen. When he said leave me alone, and don't ever come back into my life, I knew I had failed.

All these goodbyes are such a challenge. To realize I could never stop it, never store the loss in a closet. It's hard to look back at the past and say I did well. I want to say I was a good guy, but when I look at my goodbyes, I don't feel so good.

It's not an easy thing, you know, it always comes with grief. Well, maybe there are some happy goodbyes, but most of them are sad. There are millions I could say, but I'll only use a few.

There are the real goodbyes, the ones where you get old and are ready for a long rest. There are the heartbreaking goodbyes, the ones where lovers say they'd rather be apart; when your friends stop answering your calls. There are the leaving goodbyes, where you are moving away, and will never see that little town again, will never get that letter they promised to write. Finally, there are the lost goodbyes. These are the worst for me, that feeling when you know you can't save someone. That sinking guilty feeling that makes you wish you did more.

My real goodbye came with my great-grandpa. I didn't know him that well, I said hi when we went to visit, I gave him hugs and said I loved him, but I didn't know him. I didn't mind until the funeral came, then the world came crashing down, and I felt like crying in front of strangers. The military men honored him as a brother, and the whole thing felt so important, yet I didn't know him all that well.

My heartbreak goodbye, when I knew he was ditching me when I knew he hated my guts. We didn't say anything, but it stung worse than any time I'd failed a soccer game. Half of it was I knew it was my fault, but I didn't know how to say I'm sorry.

My leaving goodbye was when I moved twice. First, when I left my hometown of southern accents and pool parties with my one neighbor, second when I left the chilly north. My first real school, my first real friends, my first love for books, and amazing teachers. The days I would remember the amazing people, but can never talk to them again.

And finally, my lost goodbye. When I knew there was no saving that soul from the past never left behind. He turned his back on my telling him to change, and leave the hate behind. I told him to shove the dirty stuff into a hole, but he didn't want to listen. When he said leave me alone, and don't ever come back into my life, I knew I had failed.

All these goodbyes are such a challenge. To realize I could never stop it, never store the loss in a closet. It's hard to look back at the past and say I did well. I want to say I was a good guy, but when I look at my goodbyes, I don't feel so good.