You’d think that doing something again and again and again would make you good at it.
Or at least, make it easier.
But the truth is, there’s one thing that never gets any easier.
No matter how many times you do it, no matter how many times you practice.
Saying goodbye never gets easier.
As someone who has been traveling/nomadic/free-spirited for the better part of the last ten years, I am no stranger to saying goodbye.
I’ve met, crossed paths with, traveled with, hundreds, if not thousands of people.
If I’m being honest, I probably don’t remember most of them.
But some, some make an impact.
Some make it hard to say goodbye.
Some make you wish for more time, for another day, another few hours, just another coffee, another walk in the park —
I admit, I’ve cried many times saying goodbye in the past ten years.
Maybe not in front of them, but as the bus pulls away or as I go past the immigration counter or as they turn around for one last wave and round the corner — the tears slip out.
Goodbyes never get easier.
After the first few times I found myself weeping after saying goodbye, I contemplated not letting myself feel so much.
The whole reason why saying goodbye was so hard is because we’d shared something special, a deep connection, a meeting of minds, an openness of heart, a shared spirit. Perhaps only brief and transient, but powerful nonetheless.
What if I didn’t allow myself to make those connections? What if I simply skipped over seeing and being seen, listening and being heard? What if we just kept things casual?
But then I asked myself, what’s the fucking point of that?
What are we here on this earth for, if not to feel intensely, to experience fully, to love intensely?
What kind of existence would we have if we turned off the “bad” feelings, the ones that make us sad, that make us mad, that provoke all sorts of intense sensations in our bodies?
I imagine it’d be like looking at fish swimming in an aquarium. You see them but it’s not the same as getting in the water yourself. You theoretically understand the concept of wetness, but it’s not the same as feeling the water on your skin. You hypothetically get how buoyancy works, but it’s not the same as floating weightlessly (or trying not to sink).
In any case. I decided that that isn’t for me.
I want life in HD, in technicolor, I want to live the movies, I want all of the experiences — the good, the better, the best, and yes, the bad, and the sad, and the mad.
I want all of it.
And so every sad, sobby, weepy goodbye reminds me of how lucky I am — how truly blessed my life is, that I have shared such beautiful moments with wonderful humans that make saying goodbye so hard.
This essay was inspired by the original blog post from 7 years ago:
I started writing this when I said goodbye to you. And when you left. And when I left you. And we both went our separate ways. I started writing this in my head, after every goodbye I’ve ever said that’s broken my heart, and left me wishing goodbye wasn’t even a word that existed. I started writing this years ago, but I’ve only just put it into words.
Recently, my friend and I were speaking of goodbyes, of farewells, of separating and going our own ways.
“Surely, for someone like you, who’s been travelling for over 3 years, saying goodbye must be easy.”
The truth is, saying goodbye is never easy. And I think it’s only gotten harder and harder.
Of course, I’m not talking about saying goodbye to casual acquaintances – random people you meet in hostels and chat with over a coffee, or even people you might spend a whole day with sightseeing and talking about this and that. Those goodbyes are perhaps, not easy, but you accept them as a part of your reality. No, no. The goodbyes that I’m talking about are the ones you still think about days, weeks, months after they happen.
Travelling as much as I do, I’ve come to realize that real connections are hard to come by. People you really click with, people you feel like you’ve known for years after just a brief interaction, people you get you. When I meet these people, as rarely as it happens, it’s so easy to just be with them that I always end up being around them longer than I would ever have planned. I mean, it’s not like I have anywhere else to be, right? But inevitably, the longer I spend with them, the harder the goodbye becomes. And when we finally do part, the goodbye is always a heart-wrenching moment, as I leave with my eyes full of tears, always, fighting the urge to turn around and go right back to them.
But as with all things, the feeling fades, and eventually, I remember the wise words of A.A. Milne,
“How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.”
How lucky I am indeed.
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