the hardest thing you'll ever have to learn

"The hardest thing you'll ever have to learn is how to say goodbye."
- from the mini-series "Taken"


I've always had a hard time saying goodbye.

Silly, isn’t it? How a word (or two if you’re anal) can evoke such a strange feeling of awkwardness in a person. I’ve had “good” goodbyes, and bad ones, quite a number of awkward ones, and a little bit of some erased by inebriation.

Some examples:

- Coming home from Graduation Ball (not mine but his!), only to find that my date apparently liked me. How? The more than a dozen long-stemmed red roses (I have a strong distate for red roses. White ones are a lot prettier. Why don’t they every get that?!) stuffed in the trunk of his car, the teddy bear reading a book (whose meaning only came to mind YEARS later, talk about being slow), and the card were quite blatant. So before he could say a word, I dashed to the gate. Cue: hurried (and HARRIED) goodbye. Wrong timing, my dear. You had your chance. ;)

- My first date with my first boyfriend. Because I knew he was going to tell me he liked me. I couldn’t handle it. Poor boy. As I walked away and bid him goodnight, he got the impression I didn’t feel the same way. Eep.

- After being brought home by a friend who’s quite.. Lusty, let’s just say. I was so scared he was going to try something (he already was in public!). Grabbed the door handle soon as I could as hastily called out a goodbye.

- Anytime I am alone in a car with a guy. WHY? Because apparently I give off a “flirty” vibe. I always afraid that I give them the wrong impression. And I do have a lot of guy friends, many of whom have given me lifts home.

I know what you’re thinking. I’m a priss who has yet to learn to be comfortable with me. BUT I AM. It’s the car thing. Maybe there’s lack of oxygen in that little enclosed space. I don’t know. It just gets me everytime. And today I must say the dreaded word. Twice.

- Today is Reg's birthday. Happy 28th. :) I miss you.

At precisely midnight (Chiko-time, of course), I called Reg to wish him a beautiful birthday. Then came the dreaded "goodbye." Calling long-distance doesn’t really leave you with the “stammer-and-prolong” option. So the incoming call on the other end was a welcome interruption. Whew.

- Also today, Mico, my last "fun" friend, officially leaves to become an expat. In Laos.

I must admit that this “goodbye” will prove to be more difficult. (Flashback: Reg’s despedida, where tables and tables – I kid you not – were bawling. Incidentally, he has returned twice every year since.) I suppose it’s harder because he’s been my constant friend since college. We’re not super-close or anything, but he’s always just been there. Like stars. You know, they’re always just up there and you can’t see them all the time but you know that when you look up they’ll be right there.

ANYWAY, it gets difficult because he’s my last “fun” friend. Meaning, I can drag him to hang out and not expect him to be corny or sleepy or not-game. Everyone else has grown up: got married, had children, got serious with work, got a boyfriend. You name it. At 26 years old, it’s not exactly hard to imagine why. And as the only deliriously happy single girl left, I need to have “fun” friends. So there.

Maybe I’m not really afraid of saying goodbye to people. Maybe what I’m really afraid of is intimacy. Or losing my singlehood. Or leaving my comfort zones. Now THAT’S hard.