The other side of goodbye

Either I only truly get attached to people who stay or … well, what else can it be?  Like a web, I’ve built a solid foundation from which I jump from place to place knowing that even when I fall, I can drag myself back because of that strand that binds me to my architectural masterpiece.

This, this is home. A place that you carry with you when you go looking for adventure in strange lands, a place where you can make friendships with people you never would have otherwise interacted with. A place in your being that reminds you that you can go where you may because when you come back, things will always be the same. People will be here. Waiting.

I’m not always here – on this side of a goodbye. The last two times I was, it was a blur of pain and tears and some dark place I never wanted to visit again. There’s no Doctor to rescue you in his blue machine. There are no smiling faces of children in exotic lands that’ll carry you through it. Just you and the them size hole throbbing inside you since they left. That and the urge to set fire to the airport and the harbour and the front door – just so that there is no place left for anyone to say goodbye.



6 Comments Add yours

  1. Wilhelmina Upton says:

    I feel that saying goodbye to the people leaving is so much harder than when you yourself are leaving. Then things are all exciting and new but when you’re forced to stay home and watch others go away for their adventures it is so hard.


    1. cupitonians says:

      Exactly. When they leave, they leave to new friendships and adventures. And you are stuck in a place where everything brings up a memory of them.


      1. Wilhelmina Upton says:

        Yes, YES, yes!!!


  2. Addie says:

    I imagine the girl in the picture as myself looking back down, sometimes deeper down as I actually do, and seeig that they whom I love and lost are no longer where they were before…


  3. I understand this so well, we move too often for comfort and I’m the sort that falls in love easily! A cafe, a pub, a children’s library…my home! I come to LOVE it all. And then there are friends…nothing defines my life the way the people who populate it, and all too often I have to leave and start again…learn to LOVE again! I often wonder what it would feel like to know I’m staying, for a long, long time. Enjoyed reading you, as always 🙂 xxx


    1. cupitonians says:

      It’s a different sort of pain, the staying. While the other goes off to travel and adventure and new beginnings, you’re left with ghosts that haunt the places you’ve been and shadows of giggles. While both are hard, leaving is relatively easier. xx


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