Dear Goodbye,

Sorry for I have been quite unwelcoming (again) the last time around. I mean… I always know that you would eventually come for a visit. I know that on one of those random days, I would hear someone knocking on my door and rush over to open it–only to find you standing there awkwardly, swaying from one foot to another, a look of guilt is painted all over your face. It’s as if you have predicted (and expected) the terrible reactions you would receive from those who cross paths with you; while you know full well that there is nothing you can do differently.

I know you pay me a visit because you have to, not because you want to. Sometimes I think it must be such a lonely and melancholic job: to cast farewells upon others; to separate hearts and cut down ties or to let people know that their time is over. I could not imagine what if I were the one who had to do such a thing every single day. That must be pretty awful.

People got to do what they got to do, and I know that you’re just doing your job. It’s just that… no matter how often you came for a visit, still, I could never get myself used to it. Again and again, I feel hurt, or sad, or betrayed, or confuse–and so, I’m sorry for the way I reacted to you the last time (but at least I didn’t slam the door on your face the way I did before!).

I would like you to know that I am still trying to accept you for who you are–and for what you do; and that I would love to invite you in for some conversations over tea (or coffee) after the shock of your visit dissipates.

But it’s impossible, isn’t it?

Because you can’t just pay a casual visit and hang out without having any farewells to deliver. This means, the next time I see you again, I would be totally unprepared again, totally sad and shocked again, and I would probably react with such an unwelcoming demeanor again. Can I say sorry in advance if this is going to be the case? Though I really hope that the next time I see you, I have had a bigger heart to simply nod and let you come inside for a while. Of course, a tinge of sadness will still be there when I found you in front of my door again. However, from all the people in the world, I guess you are the one who understands the most about sadness. So probably, we can comfort each other just because we both understand how it feels.

I know you have been sending me gifts as well after your visit. Sometimes they reach me in a week or two, other times they reach me in a year or two; and other times it takes 8 years for your farewell gifts to fall on my lap. I have no idea which delivery service provider you are using; as those gifts came in random timings and intervals–but, thank you for the wonderful gesture. I guess, oftentimes, I overlook this lovely side of you–because I have been blinded by animosity towards you, just because you’re doing your job well (which is so unfair of me!).

So, I’d like to say thank you so much for sending me those farewell gifts–even after I reacted so badly towards you. No matter how early or late those gifts are, they always reach me when I least expected them. Mostly, they come in a simple hello; an opportunity to be brave and do spontaneous things; an exchange of smiles and shy glances; or a random conversation that ends up in warm and fuzzy kisses.

It’s fun to receive these gifts–although at the back of my mind, I am always conscious of the fact that one day, you will pay me a visit again and take away a particular gift from me. I know you will always send me new gifts–because that’s the only thing you can do (and another thing you’re really good at) to make me feel better. I know you can’t undo farewells, but you can always throw in new beginnings–when I have allowed myself to answer the doorbell again when it rings. And really, I think you’re kind that way.

Anyway, sorry for bothering you with this pointless letter. I think I’ll stop now. I just want you to know that I understand you–although most of the time it appears as if I don’t. But I do.

This is hard to say, but I will say it anyway: until I see you again.

Yes, until I see you again, Goodbye.

hanny

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I recently have this fear: I would not have enough time to read all the books I want to read. Every time I glance at the pile of to-be-read books on my shelf, I feel overwhelmed. How can I keep up? I can feel myself getting anxious when I think of how, for sure, I won't be able to.
Hanny illustrator
Hi. I'm HANNY
I'm a published writer and a writing/creative workshop facilitator based in Amsterdam, the Netherlands. In Indonesian, 'beradadisini' means being here. So, here I am, documenting life—one word at a time.

hanny

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