Every Time We (I) Say Goodbye
Every time we say goodbye, I die a little Every time we say goodbye, I wonder why a little*
I sit here, avoiding putting words to page, to strings of code and bytes. Much like I avoid facing the work of making a dream a reality (and sometimes I avoid saying goodbye to a dream no longer able of becoming something to touch, feel, hear, nurture, or grow).
So I say goodbye Because surely it must be for the best? To bid it a farewell? For surely I’m simply being selfish … Or on the wrong track … Basically doing all I ought not while avoiding what I ought. Right?
And when you’re near There’s such an air of spring about it*
To submerse my self in the works of another, In worlds and words familiar and new The thought continues to flutter: “I can do this.” The spark of some how, in some way being made To do this Glows a little brighter, a little stronger. It doesn’t feel foolish Or selfish Or wrong.
Simply … I ought to do this. (Avoidance becomes the ‘ought not’.) ‘Goodbye’ becomes ‘hello’.
There’s no love song finer …*
*Ev'rytime We Say Goodbye by Cole Porter