Separian - Book 1

Chapter 25

December 15th

How does one learn to say goodbye?

How did you do it so well?

A question that's haunted the back of my mind from the very moment Amy's lips first touched mine. Even if it wasn't forever, would any amount of practice ready me for the lives I would leave behind and the impact that they'd had on me? in such a short time, no less. Maybe that's the wrong question.

I know it isn't goodbye forever, not even for very long. So maybe the question now is, how does one learn to move forward after deliberately idling for so long? Saying 'goodbye' is easy, compared to that. Making the first step was a simpler task. But continuing to walk afterward? It frightens me to death. And knowing this entire time that the day was coming closer, I grow lost in my thoughts more and more.

Those around me learned to embrace my  increasing silence as a new "norm" for me, understanding what it is I felt and making sure no memory was left unfinished, no adventure not taken, no meal uncooked, no story not read; every detail of life they could cram into the time I had left expunged of its joy and shared with me. An attempt to end my silent thoughts and rejoin in the life we all shared.

But just like that, it was over; the memories nothing more than memories. Every home cooked meal an empty pot hanging over an island in the kitchen. Every adventure a story recorded in a seemingly endless shelf of books and pictures. Every kiss a sacred practice to mark the end of one day and the beginning of another. Just like that, it was over.

Three months, three long months and these thoughts are all that keep me sane, all that help me to fall asleep at night. Knowing that I've done something good in the time I've been here; that I've left my mark on this family. A community absent to the magic transpiring in this house every day I was here, the hearts of every one of us changing and learning to accept so much more than a boy with a secret he could not control on his own. Unless someone were here, how could they ever truly know what love this family was capable of? And all of their love for me became the very mark I am leaving on their lives. This chapter in my life is over. But it's going to take some time before I can continue writing. My story, my true story, needs to recommence. The mysteries surrounding me need to be resolved. And yet, here I am, stuck on the first step.

Why is it so difficult to say goodbye? What within us makes parting with another person such an agonizing choice to follow through on?

I don't mean to romanticize it all, regardless of what you just read, but it's honestly something I feel i can only encompass if I use exactly those words. Ordinary talk and vague explanations don't feel like justice for my time here.

As I said, three months.

I'd remained another two months after my decision to leave this place.  haven't written you in all that time, so how could you know? I feel amazing and disgusted all at the same time. Because even now, I can only see myself as a beacon. A great big flashing neon sign for whoever was still out there searching for me saying 'RIGHT HERE'. Of course nobody, not even Simon in all of his smug glory feels the need to vocalize that fact beyond what I discuss with them all in private. No secret conversations behind closed doors about my future tenancy here, no sly remarks about my inability to leave this place as I already planned to.

Does that make me a bad person? Knowing in my heart of hearts that I never should have some back that night in the rain? This can only end badly.

Tonight is my last night here, finally. But today has been harder than I anticipated. Nobody has said a word about the fact that I'm going off on my own to find answers in just a few hours. At least not negatively. Amy has been avoiding the subject for a week. I am interested to see how tonight goes. I'm supposed to be taking her out for dinner somewhere out of town where we won't be recognized. She's getting dressed up and John is letting me borrow something from his closet to save Myra spending a fortune on something I might only wear once.