Thoughts Of A Girl.

Goodbyes.

She never said goodbye. She said goodnight, or farewell, or see you later. She said all the things that implied reunification, but she never said goodbye. For her there had never been any good in goodbye. They had always been permanent, like when people died or left and decided not to come back. She learned to resent the words and avoided saying them at all cost. That's why he wished he'd said something else the night she finally did. He'd noticed the hint of agony in her voice as she'd whispered it over the phone, but it was so late and he had been so tired. He'd said it back just as the line disconnected. Now he loses sleep wishing he'd said anything else, wishing he'd payed more attention to her goodbye, after all the only goodbyes she knew were when someone was dying, or going away and never coming back, and she, did both.