I’ve been thinking a lot about goodbyes all year. I said goodbye to my family and friends just under a year ago for a year, knowing that when I was reunited with them, we wouldn’t be the same. We’d spend a year apart and we would change and learn and grow.
All of this year, when I’d catch up with them or get a text or Facebook message, or a comment on a blog, I would dream of being reunited when I got home. I’d dream of those perfect happy-cry movie clips of people hugging in the airports, reunited after a long time of being apart.
Some of those reunions won’t be happening for me. Two dear friends won’t be there when I get home. One friend in Manhattan took a job in Minnesota awhile back. Another friend in KC accepted a job last in Seattle. Manhattan friend moved this week. KC friend moves quite possibly the weekend I fly home, which means we will miss each other by mere days.
It’s hard to swallow. I’ve cried so many times I keep thinking my eyes have run dry, but they haven’t. It’s a hard thing to let go, a hard thing to know I won’t get to tell them all the stories in person right away. I won’t get to cry because I’m so excited to see them after being gone.
These are the things you can’t prepare for, because you can’t predict them. These are the curve balls that, quite frankly, suck.
I can’t call my friend to just meet for coffee and see her 20 minutes later. I can’t drive two hours and have a four hour breakfast with my other friend. He’ll be over 24 hours away.
I’m tired of hard goodbyes. I’m tired of hurting. I’m tired of feeling like my heart is getting ripped out of my chest.
I know in my heart of hearts, hard goodbyes are a good thing. Because they mean there was an exchange of love, and that it was real.
I’m just so tired of them.
