March 21st, 2022
I’m probably just in a mood, or maybe the algorithm is joyously targeting me, but I just keep thinking about good byes.
Sure, there are the big ones that social media seems keen to keep reminding me of, like I don’t think about my big good bye too often already.
But it’s the little ones that step around my consciousness and make these creaking sounds; the little ones that catch my mind and I dwell on.
How do we say good bye?
Do we make every one good enough for forever?
Or do we challenge fate by manifesting the fact that we will see each other again?
Maybe that’s why, sometimes, a simple “bye” is all I can say to my family, because I will not accept that I’ll never say it to them again.
But maybe that’s why I say “I love you” to one of my bros, because I don’t know the last time I saw him, and I don’t know if I’ll see him again.
Sometimes I can only say “bye” because the words I want to say don’t exist, and I hope they know how much I love them anyway.
Sometimes I say “bye” like good riddance, though that sentiment could haunt me just as easily.
I tell people to drive safe or be careful, because that is good bye insurance. It guarantees I’ll be allowed to say good bye at least one more time.
At OC, we got really good at saying good bye, and we would call each other out when we didn’t. It didn’t make the fact that we didn’t get to say good bye the last time any easier.
And my hardest last good bye wasn’t a good bye at all. It was a hug, not so hard that I would break her, but hard enough to make her know I loved her more than anything else in this world.
So, yeah. I think about good byes too much.
And I think I’m writing this down because we should think about them even more.
What they mean. What they don’t mean. And if any is ever really good enough.
The Den 