Goodbye

Maybe it's the age. Maybe it's the place. Maybe it's just the people I know. Whatever it is, I feel as if I'm always saying goodbye. And pretty much, I am.

Last week I wished Pennsylvania Boy bon voyage, after four years of friendship. In a rare moment of closeness, we looked at each other all goofy-like when I said, "Damn. Do you realize I've known you since you were 18?" He was straight out of a catholic high school for boys, young and a little naive, but determined and quick to learn. And now here is, twenty-two, world-travelled, and one of the most respectable people I've had the pleasure of knowing in France. I know we'll stay friends. I know we'll talk. But I'll miss him.

Today I said goodbye to BrooklynBabe. She's been working past her assistant job while waiting on word for another. Deadlines kept getting pushed back and the starting date looked like it wouldn't be for another few months. I secretly kept my fingers crossed that she'd still be here in October, even though I knew there was a risk she would leave in July. Last week, the July date was looking more promising, and tonight she told me that she'd be leaving in a few weeks. I'll still be in Asia, and she'll be gone. She thought of me and lent me a book and slipped me a job possibility. Hopefully I'll be able to give her back a little something when I see her - for a mere afternoon - in New York this August.

It gets old really fast, constantly saying goodbye. My dad tells me it happens everywhere in life, but I look at my sister, for example, and to a lesser extent my brother, and they are still surrounded by college friends. Yes, it's my "fault" for living abroad, but my "college friends" are from here. But now they're always somewhere else.

I just miss everyone, and hate saying goodbye. I've had to do it so many times in the last few years that you would think I would get used to it. But I never do. It sucks, every single time.