Goodbyes

What is it about goodbyes?

Is each one a reminder of the last?
Or the one that hurt the most —
The one that promised the most impossible “hello again”?

(There really wasn’t any reason for me to be that sad.
Some sort of involuntary emotional recall, I guess.)

It’s as if…
Each goodbye I have to say
Is said to something that I have done, that has defined me.
A goodbye to a part of myself,
To the me that has existed up to now.

What beginnings?
It feels like… ends are the only constant.

Look,
I’ve never been one for moving on,
Yet every goodbye is the world’s way of telling me
To move on from everything,
To let go of whatever it is I’ve been holding onto,

To fall.

How do you ready yourself for that?

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