What goodbyes are made of (Part 4)

It was  a nice day to say goodbye.

We sat together at a coffee shop under the clear blue sky. Crowds of people walked past without sparing us a single glance. Everyone was seemingly caught up in their own little worlds.

There were certain things I wanted to say.

Things like:

“This is the last time we’re gonna see each other in a very long time.”

“I’m going to miss you.”

“I wish we had more time.”

And there were certain questions I wanted to ask.

Questions like:

“How are you feeling right now?”

“Will you miss me when I’m gone?”

“Are you going to wait for me?”

But that day, neither of us said any of those things.

Instead, we talked about the weather and how nice it was that day. We watched the people walking by because it was less awkward than maintaining eye-contact with each other and having that conversation. Together, we wondered what it was that they were selling across the street like it was some sort of existential question we were so curious about.

“I bet they’re giving out free T-shirts.”

“Why would they be giving out free T-shirts at 12 in the afternoon?”

“I don’t know. I think they are advertising something.”

“What are they advertising? Can you see?”

“No. Can you? After all, you’re the one without the glasses.”

There we were, on our last day, talking about the weather and free T-shirts.

We acted as if we had all the time in the world when in fact, the last few drops of time were slipping away from us. There was nothing we could do about it and we just continued to sit there in comfortable silence: you, drinking coffee and I, watching the people passing by.

In the end, it didn’t matter how slowly you drank your coffee or how many people I counted passing me by. The time finally came for the final goodbye.

After leaving the coffeeshop, we stopped in the middle of the crowded street.

You said, “I guess this is it.”

“Yeah, I guess,” I replied, flashing a smile at you. I don’t know what is wrong with me but I tend to smile in the most inappropriate situations. Like when I feel like crying.

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

The hug aftwards was brief.

Maybe, if we were in a movie, it would have been the part where you declared your undying love for me and I broke down into tears. Then, everything would slow down and we would share a moment on screen.

But it was real life and there was no such thing as slow-motion.

Nobody turned on the music and the camera didn’t focus on only the two of us.

You simply walked away and I quickly crossed the road towards the bus stop because the bus was already pulling to a stop.

I got on the bus and you disappeared into the crowd.

The ending was so un-dramatic, so different from the movies.

Yet..

And yet, why is it that I remember it all too well?

Sometimes, goodbyes are made of a short “bye” and a brief hug.