goodbye
You said it would be easier this way. If we made our goodbye brief. I suspected you were trying to convince yourself - and I tried to convince myself too. I guess I kind of failed. I couldn’t even bring myself to tell you “I love you” in person for that very last time. And walking away, as I tried to fight back my tears, I knew I was fighting a losing battle.
In a sense I didn’t allow myself to win. I didn’t allow the goodbye to be truly brief. I sat down at McCafe after leaving you knowing that I was giving myself to chance to cry. I read your yearbook entry when I got back knowing that I’d be reading through tears within sentences. I went into the bathroom after that knowing that I was giving myself the chance to sob.
I don’t think I would have wanted it any other way. Somehow these tears are humanizing and serve as some sort of testament to our love. They are a reminder that this is real and that somehow, I really am this lucky. Otherwise, sometimes you really do just feel like a dream to me.
Today I said goodbye to a countless number of people, all of whom were important in their own way. But at the end of the day, today was about you. Please, don’t let your love for me ever change - you mean too much to me.
Thank you. I love you. And yes, I do believe in you.
