I’ve always found the goodbye to be perhaps the most romantic, personal, and heartbreakingly bittersweet interaction between humans. I’m talking about who-knows-if-I’ll-see-you-again, good-luck-in-all-that-you-do, it-was-nice-knowing-you goodbyes. Ones between two people who aren’t too close yet have an certain air of intimacy between them, like no other person could quite understand the dynamic between the two. Ones between two people who aren’t completely comfortable with each other, who are still shy around each another, whose eyes glisten with excitement at every exchanged smile simply because of the unfamiliarity and interest in each other. It’s a shame to see certain chapters of our lives end, but it can also be a huge adrenaline rush to begin another. I guess that’s just how life works: the show will still continue even after one character exits stage left. Sometimes, all we can do is hope that that character reappears later in the story, and that will simply have to be enough.
I really, really, really wish I had the patience and self-discipline to be able to keep a journal. I have so many thoughts, so many stories, so many jokes, so many life lessons I’ve picked up that I wish I could let spill out onto paper, but I just can’t. Every time I try, I end up giving up because I just can’t do it. I want to remember everything, but at this million miles a minute pace at which my life is moving, I won’t be able to keep everything clear in my memory. I guess concert ticket stubs, newspaper clippings, business cards, handwritten notes, and photos will have to do.