However, today, I'm also leaving. And I'm bad with goodbyes.
I know it's not that serious. Really. In our modern age, people are a phone call, a text, a tweet, a Facebook message, a video chat away. It's really not that serious. But there's just something inherently melancholy about the aspect of leaving. Yes, I know I might see you again sometime and that I'm always welcome to visit if time permits. Yes, I know we can very easily stay in touch. But it's not the same as in person. It just isn't.
What also gets me is the idea of something ending. No, not the friendship or the relationship or whatever, but the experience. Experiences are what they are because they begin and end. They exist in an ephemeral space and the only proof that they ever took place is that we remember them. That's all you're left with. The memory. (Or, in the case of a car wreck, a scar and an asymmetrical collarbone).
The fact that this is a rather dreary morning doesn't help, either. A dash of goodbye, a sprinkle of drear, a spoonful of morning airport drive . . . the perfect recipe for golden brown, bittersweet melancholy.
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