It’s been a lonely year, but I haven’t been alone.

There’s something entirely too intimate about a simple goodbye. There’s a gentle hesitation behind it as if we’re looking for a reason to change our mind, giving just one more chance, when we know that our mind is already made up. It’s partially welcomed as well, a silent acceptance that this is the end and today is a goodbye and a hello. You know when one person says nothing at all but it seems like too much at the moment.

It’s emotionally fueled, or completely stoic, void of feelings or logic, and it makes zero sense, leaving you kinda happy, but at the same time confused. Months later, you find loose ends you thought you had tied, but apparently untied in the process of leaving, you find triggers that bring back feelings or memories that leave you angry and sad, and you realize that you’ve been too reliant on habits that numb the loss because whatever was taken from you, was taken without your approval, the decision was made without your input and now it’s too late to say anything.

I have so much I want you to hear me say, but finding the right words, or any words, seems next to impossible while feeling this way is next to impossible to stop feeling. Maybe that’s just the nature of goodbyes? Maybe goodbyes take months to feel like they even happened. It’s hard when life just kinda stops, but time keeps moving forward and the people around you move forward with it; without you.

You feel yourself tied down, like there’s a weight chained to your ankle keeping you from walking anywhere but in circles. And circles are kinda irregular shapes when you think about it, remember that time Squidward taught Spongebob how to draw and his methods were impossible and the outcome wasn’t pretty?

I feel like Squidward when I walk around sometimes. Like I’m retracing my steps and the scene is familiar, but it’s always different. And there’s always a new lesson I learn, or pretend I’ve learned. The circle might expand, but it’ll shrink right away after and I’m left with this irregular grungy looking thing that is anything but a circle, yet I end my journey in the same place it started. Back at the goodbye.

Fading away into silence and oblivion is easier than confessing to a mistake or apologizing or lying. So instead, saying nothing until the only thing left to do is scream, is what I’ll do. And when I do scream, it’s not really that loud, it’s more like a silent plea for help… like “look at me, I need help, but I’ll wait until you notice I need it because I’m too strong to ask for it.” In this way, I wish I was weaker because then maybe I would have asked for help sooner. Help learning how to say goodbye.