MISS MOOX + time


Saying goodbye is so sad. I had to do it again today. Yesterday a working friend of mine took me on a walk during my lunch hour and told me he was leaving. Leaving the job. Leaving the area. Taking off on a cross-country tour to "find himself". And while I knew it was a good thing for him, it left me feeling sad. Although I'd only known him for a couple of months, he'd become a friend, and in the aftermath of our conversation, I realized I'd miss him more than I'd expected.

Saying goodbye is hard. I've done a lot of it, moving as much as I have, living in the mobile and transient population of Toronto. I've moved away. Others have gone. Somehow it never gets any easier, though you get more accustomed to it with time.

What is better? To never have known those you have to say goodbye to? Or to have your life enriched by the company of others who become dear to you, despite the heartwrenching it causes when you part?

"Better to have loved and lost..." is the cliche. And I'm thinking that it's true: I'd rather have known and loved the many I've said goodbye to, then never to have experienced that sweet pain.

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