I rule at hellos. I am embarrassingly social. It takes me a grand total of 30 seconds to acquaint strangers. I’ve been described as the person who knows everybody.
Meanwhile, I thoroughly suck at goodbyes. I can never bring myself to close the door, to leave the room, to say goodbye.
I’m a bit of a drama queen, guilty! I have a thing for goodbyes, guilty! I am plagued by an unhealthy propensity to separation anxiety, guilty! I have abandonment issues, also guilty! I am too attached, I disagree, but guilty nevertheless.
I’ve known about this for a couple of months now. I’ve processed the fact. I’ve gone through all the phases disbelief – denial – slight anger – acceptance. Yet here I am, two days away from her departure date, with the knowledge that yesterday was the last time I’ll see her in quite some time and I’m feeling absolutely clueless.
I missed her farewell party. I had just cause. I had a wedding to go to. Yet can’t help but think that I did it on purpose. I couldn’t bear mass goodbyes. One on one goodbyes is bad enough.
Now that the deadline is upon us my mind wanders to all the unfinished business; all the places we said we’d go check out that we never had a chance to, all the conversations that were started and left to be continued and all the movies on our to see list.
Over the past couple of weeks I’ve made numerous attempts at writing the goodbye letter to trump all goodbye letters. Results have been dire. Instead this time round I’m trying something different. This is my I’ll-see-you-when-I-see-you toast:
May you wake up every morning wanting to change the world and may you go to bed at night with the knowledge that, in a sense, today you have!
Yalla, I’ll see you when I see you.