The Goodbye I Never Said To You


I never got to say goodbye to you but if I did that exact word would never have left my lips. I would never have told you goodbye because I didn’t think that was the last time I would ever see you. I know I shouldn’t have left you on the other end of the phone, begging for me to save you. I know that you thought that what you were doing wasn’t destructive for me, or everything I worked so hard to achieve. If I knew that after that night I would disconnect myself from you mentally and socially, I would have said my peace with you then.

I would have thanked you for opening my eyes. For showing me what true love is even if we only had it for a short time. I would have thanked you for helping me realize how I deserve to be treated; flowers on my doorstep, being shown off to all your friends, calming my breathing when my body refuses to give me air during a panic attack. No, you did not show me these things all the time, but you helped me see that I deserve the very best from someone. Not who they are when they are fighting to love themselves and another person.

If I knew then, that that would be last time you held me, I would have stayed longer just to feel safe one more time. If I knew after the last time we made up, that we would never apologize to each other again after a fight, I would have kissed you with more passion.

If I knew that my heart would ache for you long after I left, I might never have let you go.

I should have called you or shown up at your doorstep. I should have told you everything that is swimming in my head now. I should have told you that I never fell out of love with you and I think that was the hardest part of walking away. I should have said that it will be years before I want to know how you are doing or who you are with.

I don’t even know if there is another but I wonder if you would tell her about me. I wonder if you would paint me as the one who got away or as the girl with the ice cold heart. Would she know about the bracelets? The ones I threw at your door after you slammed it in my face. The ones that I see you wearing in pictures even now, 8 months later. Are you going to take her on late night drives around the city so she can watch the lights like you used to do with me? Will she stay up with you all night when you can’t sleep or appreciate the love you have for music?

I hope you don’t play her our song. I hope you still think of me.

I know I should have said goodbye, but maybe this is easier. To write it in a letter but never deliver it. Maybe it is easier to have you think I left without a trace, than to both have us longing for each other. Whatever the case, I should have said goodbye, so here it is.