Monday, February 08, 2010

Goodbyes



I want to put into words the thoughts and emotions that have constricted my heart and make me choke after reading Nicolas Sparks’ Dear John.



It never thought for one moment that saying goodbye is any easy. Saying it out loud or in the silence of a crying heart will always entail an end to something seemingly fleeting in your life. There are temporary goodbyes. There are goodbyes that will remain gone forever. Either way, there will always be that feeling of lost, of cutting someone from your life, someone who have shared with you emotions that will never be evoked by anyone else. Only that person can make you feel the intensity of joy, the depth of sadness, the highs of success, the fright of collapse. No one and the same can ever make you experience that same emotions that run in your soul. Never will your heart feel that same feeling, not with anyone that will come into your life after. As each man that enters in your life will provide a different version of such upheavals, of such passion, of such strengths of intensity. The same way it will always be unique and particular as to the forms of goodbye.



There are unspoken goodbyes; where things are left unsaid, left hanging and unresolved. For me, it is like half living; not knowing what would have been is living your life in half, in a fraction of a whole. You have missed that part to end. It’s like a road unfinished, turn unmade. Lying to oneself that the outcome is what was best for everyone when everyone involved are not even part of the process of departure, of ending is ruthless, unemotional, inhuman. There will be words left unspoken, words that will never be broken, words that will never provide an end. There will be tears that are left unshed, tears that would have cleanse the crying soul. As time passes, it will take away all the unsaid goodbyes. It will deprive it of its existence, of its right to be spoken, to be felt. In the long run, it creates a hole in one’s heart that will never be filled by anything that comes after. Even if in time, the heart will feel a warmth that fulfill its needs, there is that part that still left frozen, left untouched by anything else. It never thaws; it stays forever cold in the heart. And time will fly, time will pass, the remains of the unsaid goodbyes will forever be reminiscent of a life that is lost, a love that is unspoken, a truth that never prevailed. Unfinished, never ending.



There are goodbyes that are uttered. Goodbyes that have been expressed, tears that freely marked sorrow, of sadness. It is never easier than the unspoken one, but only well expressed. Goodbyes that are spoken leaves permanent ending, a finality that will only cling to the memories of the past. A finality that has ended forever, never can be opened, never the same, as it has closed the door of its chapter, an ending that grips the heart that was once, in that nick of time, was broken.



But there seems to be a goodbye of the third kind. The kind that transpired when both parties are cheated of what is called fate. When circumstances compelled you to depart, to finish. The heart would not want to but it was taken out of your hand by what this universe called life. That no matter how hard you try, no matter how tight you hold on, there is no way you can even prevent letting go and bidding goodbye. It may entail death, it may entail new life. One person may die, or both may live. But it is inevitable to go on being together when what is asked of is conclusion, of losing forever, of an ending; when goodbye is inevitable.



In the end, goodbyes will always break your heart. Maybe in a small kick in the chest or a magnitude so big you cannot even manage to breathe. It will close a chapter in your life (or not) that you may still wish to dwell in and live with. Whatever it maybe, goodbyes are unpredictable acts in life that makes us vulnerable, makes us who we are, makes us human. No one is exempted to this inevitable word. It makes us bleed, makes us cry. It makes us wonder why.



But from it all, goodbyes necessitate us to live in the hopes of beginnings, of new starts. If in the end, goodbye is not enough to begin, then life is a life with unfinished roads, paths uncrossed, existence unlived.



It’s your goodbye to say. Will you say it now? Unspeak of it? or let fate takes its from your hands?



Later.