This Isn’t Goodbye

February 29, 2016

“This isn’t goodbye,” she said with a reassuring laugh while packing up her few belongings in an old milk crate I stored albums in as a kid. Oddly, I found myself trying to remember the records.

“This isn’t goodbye, but I can’t talk today,” she said when I called her again. She just needed some space, no doubt. I reminded myself to text next time.

“This isn’t goodbye, it’s just not a good night,” she said when I stopped by her place with some flowers and wine. Wine was never her thing, but it always seems cool in movies.

“We should consider seeing other people. I’m not saying this is goodbye — just a break that will be good for us both,” she said when I invited her to a mutual friend’s party. Of course, she’s right. She’s always right.

It was very late and I was about to leave the bar when I saw her sitting in a dark corner booth holding hands with the guy. Unsure what to do, I stumbled up to the table in a daze.

“This is goodbye,” I said very coherently. “But I’m sure you already knew.”

I opened the door and turned my back to the smoke-drenched air, feeling suddenly alive as the black cold engulfed me. My heart beat faster.

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One Response to “This Isn’t Goodbye”

  1. facetfully Says:

    You changed the name of your blog! Fitting!


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