I said goodbye to him this morning

under hushed voices,

whispering

as if it means more that way.

I said goodbye to him

like I say goodbye to everyone.

But he isn’t everyone.

I know that.

It’s just that I’ve gotten too good

at goodbye. 

Maybe I taught him to be good

at them too. 

Because there isn’t a me,

without an eventual goodbye.

Goodbye is a part of my life.

And I made it a part of his.

I’ve desensitized. 

There was a time 

where it hurt. 

So I learned to protect myself

because my lifestyle is completely

conducive to goodbyes.

I had to learn to be strong.

I would always promise 

that I’d come say hello and goodbye

to your face,

but eventually there was always

an excuse. 

An avoidance of goodbye. 

So, I hate goodbyes.

I had to learn to be 

good at them instead.

Arm outstretched,

smile on my face,

a promise of another meeting. 

My dad always said,

“long hellos, short goodbyes”

and I’d constantly remind myself

how small the world is.

And how much of it I would travel

to never have to say goodbye to people,

to say hello again. 

I said goodbye to him today

but I smiled.

Because this time,

I know it’s, “see you later”.