Our arms wrapped around each other and held tight for a moment before we let go. I didn’t want to let go. I never do. Walking away from each other, we were still talking, raising our voices as the distance between us grew.
Soon of course, we were too far away and I was left alone, my feet hitting the snow covered pavement, carrying me away from him.
I hate goodbyes. I already said goodbye to this friend once. I had turned away from him and his red-rimmed eyes, listened to the door shut, and made it five steps across the room before I burst into tears.
Not wanting to think about the ache I was already feeling with his absence, my mind stopped almost all thought, only keeping a steady stream of my own narration. I focused on the feel of the cold slipping through the thin layer of my admittedly cheap boots. There was no support in them- I’d forgotten to put in my insoles. The sun was too bright; I couldn’t lift my head. I stared at my feet. Hitting the snow covered pavement. Careful enough to not slip on the snow and ice, but still quick.
I hate missing people. I hate that slight emptiness you feel, as if you left a part of you behind. I’ll see this friend again. But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel his absence when he’s not around.
You know how it is. You miss someone. And when you miss someone, you just want to be near them. You just want their presence beside you.
I used to see this friend twice a week. Now I see him every few weeks. I just miss him when he’s not here.
Growing up isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, you know?