A very dear friend of mine moved to New Mexico this morning, and I’m quite sad about it. I know what you’re thinking… and yes apparently there is more than cactus and dust in New Mexico. I was shocked and appalled too. Who knew?
Anyway, every time I am faced with an event as such, I am forced to deal with how utterly completely and totally awful I am with goodbyes. I hate them. I’d rather avoid them all together. That word leaves such a bitter taste in your mouth. I don’t like it not one bit. Why? Because goodbye seems so… permanent…
So this morning we all get up at the butt crack of dawn (okay it was 9:30 but everything before 2pm is early to me) and go to his house to say goodbye. Mind you, we already had a gathering at his house that, at the end of the night when faced with the prospect of saying goodbye, left me dissolved in tears curled into a ball on his lap. Oh, by the way, I hardly ever cry. It makes my makeup run. So add that to the fact that everyone then treated me like I was broken for the rest of the night because they don’t know what to do with me all emotional, I have been pretty upset the last few days.
Anyway, this morning we say goodbye at his house, and I, of course, am incredibly sad and trying not to show it. See here’s the thing; although my group of friends have certainly had its share of problems, I love these people. They’ve been in my life for the last 3 years steadily, good, bad or other. And there’s something to be said for people who will stick by you through the most pitiful periods in your life when they don’t have to. These people are my family.
And now I’m starting to have to let them go.
Honestly I was more proud than anything. He’d been saying for 2 years that he was gonna move and start over and he never did. Now he has.
So I realize I’ve grown without me ever knowing I was going through a process. I was sad to see him go, yes, because I loved the fact that he was right downtown if I wanted to see him. However, I was so proud of him for having the balls to move away from all that’s familiar. I’ve done it; it’s hard to do. And I’m glad he realized how necessary it was and, despite all our protests, did it because he knew he had to. He’s moving, but he’s not leaving… he’s just moving on.
I’ve been doing a lot of that recently. And it feels nice. Its…well, freeing. And it feels so good to be free.
Maybe I’m not as bad at goodbyes as I once thought. Maybe, the times when you say goodbye because you know that they are leaving to move on to whatever it is that they are meant to be, maybe those are the times that goodbye tastes the sweetest.