If you told me four years ago that I would still be in school, missing the friends that have graduated and dreading losing the ones to graduate in just a few weeks, I would have laughed at you. I would have laughed at you and claimed that I don’t make friends like that, friends that last. Four years ago, relationships were a thing that lasted for a little bit and then stopped mattering as time went on. Four years ago, I wasn’t even that close with my family.
Something changed when I started having to say goodbyes.
Goodbyes.
We’ve all had our fair share. Goodbye to friends. To loved ones. To people we would miss. To people that we were happy we would never have to see again. Goodbyes are a part of life, just as hellos are an unavoidable component of the human journey.
Goodbyes bring with them an air of finality. They signal the end of an era, of a meeting, of an acquaintanceship. Or they function as a “till next time.” Regardless of their purpose, goodbyes invoke emotion, whether that emotion be intense or neutral.
I’ve had a lot of hard goodbyes. But perhaps the goodbyes that hurt the most are the ones that never end. The ones that drag, that last. The ones that you keep trying to get out of your chest, but time or the other party don’t let escape.
I’ve always liked finality. Definition. I like terms to be clear. I like to know what is expected of me and what to expect from others. I do not like not knowing what is coming next or when what is will end. I have long accepted that the world does not ever cater to this desire. Life is in a constant state of flux. What is expected or known to be true can change immediately. There are some things, of course, that don’t change. That the sun rises, the earth turns, and Greenville drivers don’t know what a turning signal is.
Technology has given us the ability to never say goodbye. I can, at any moment, engage a complete stranger in parts unknown in conversation about the subplots of an online work written by a teenager in her pajamas. I can chime in on the financial state of the United States while eating a gallon of ice cream with a shovel. The Internet has given us the tremendous ability to connect with people across the globe. But when technology gives us something, it always takes away.
Sometimes the thing it takes is a good thing. Like running water takes away waste. Or like vaccinations take away diseases. But the advent of constant global connectivity has taken away our ability to say goodbye. In this age, I can still talk to people that I have not seen in years. People that I may never see again. And while this may be a good thing for good relationships, it can also make the heart yearn for some form of definition and finality.
Even if that definition is not the heart’s desire.
I like knowing where I stand. With people. With information. At weddings. I like to know what is going on around me. And I like to know how to escape. Some days I miss being able to walk away from something and that being that. But then I look at the people I love. I look at them and I think, “Oh, how great to live in an era where my loved ones are only a few finger taps away.”
But there comes a time in every relationship where we must say that final goodbye. The trick is to know when the end has arrived. It’s a hard thing, in this decade, to truly cut ties with someone. There’s an art in a well-said goodbye. But even the bad ones, the sad one, the odd ones, are better than never saying goodbye at all.
