Things Untold

The problem with goodbyes

It's funny, looking back, I can never recall the first time someone entered my little hemisphere of the world, or came into my dreary, uneventful life. People just seem to jump right in: one day they are nowhere to be seen and the next you are constant companions and it's like they've been with you for your whole life, or should have been anyway. What really tends to stick is the leaving- it sticks like the craziest crazy glue in my father's little basement workshop, quickly and permanently. Of course, the in-between, no-dated memories stay too, and that's all that matters, or so I tell myself on numerous occasions before falling asleep and dreaming again. That's how I would love for it to be, for me to think back and, instead of the goodbye, remember the days on end spent together laughing and teasing, working and playing. So far, I've established this much: I can't forget the last days, I can't forget the bad things, because they put light on the real person behind those beautiful curtains. I discovered a whole new side to my best friend, and now I can't help thinking that every moment we spent was like I never really knew him at all.