No good at goodbyes

Goodbye, typically a careless word we shout across the room as we're running out of the house or sighed awkwardly trying to escape the weirdo who approaches us at the bar. But, it's the goodbyes where there's no "next time" that always hurt the most.

I'm no pro at goodbyes, however, I do have some novice experience. In college, each summer my friends and I would leave one another to go back to school, and no tears were shed. It was all smiles and laughs as we reflected on the fun summer we’d had, making loose promises to text and FaceTime at least once a week. We always knew that we would see one another again, at Thanksgiving, then the following month for Christmas, maybe Spring Break, and then we would have summer all over again. Now, things are a little different. We work, make last minute weekend plans, and if we're lucky we meet on a Thursday to play some trivia. You can call us extra lucky if we hangout two days in a row.

But some goodbyes are different. In September we lost a member of the group, it's the first time someone has officially moved away, far away. After unsuccessfully holding in our tears and sharing hugs in the middle of the street I got to thinking, is this what goodbyes become once you get old? Unsure of when you're going to see your beloved friends again. All of our lives are changing. We are making decisions that actually effect our futures; dictating where we'll live, who we'll meet, leaving us with only memories to hold onto.

Farewell. Adiós. Au revoir. Arrivederci. 再见. مع السلامة. Aloha.

Giulia