A Goodbye Only the Stars will Hear

“Goodbye.” I whispered half to myself, half to someone who would never hear it, as my eyes wandered through the array of stars speckling the otherwise empty midnight sky. 

Complete and utter silence stole the air after my soft proclamation. The soundless, wordless wind wrapped around my arms and I began to feel a bit like a sailor in the middle of the vast Pacific without a map or compass. Utterly lost. Undeniably lonely. 

I said it again. “Goodbye.” A tear slipped down my face but I was smiling. I laughed into the stillness around me and yelled triumphantly into the crisp air as hard as my lungs would allow, “GOODBYE! I’m over it! I’m over you!”

At that moment, I knew that I had finally, truly gotten over you. It felt indescribably liberating, like I could breathe again. I felt it so strongly that it was impossible to deny but I was also overcome with a feeling of uncertainty that weighed down on my chest. 

It’s hard to explain. 

I no longer yearn for you and grieve the distance that is between us, but I remember you. I think of you and feel the hurt that I felt before. Not as strongly, but strongly enough for it to still feel like an open wound, strongly enough to make me second guess my confidence, and strongly enough to make me wonder if someone can ever completely get over love or friendship.

I don’t quite understand it myself. The feeling of a broken heart mending itself back together.

The best way I can describe the feeling is one that a person might feel after achieving a significant goal. A feeling of “now what?” and the opening of countless possibilities. A feeling kind of like you’re walking a tightrope. 

I ran my hand through the blades of the dewy grass. The droplets seeped into my fingers. The coolness felt good. It felt new and refreshing. I fell back with a content sigh and let my head rest on the ground. I knew that there would be bits and pieces of dirt clinging to my hair when I got up, but I didn’t care. 

The night was serene, perfect for my liking. 

I took a deep breath and a rush of summer air filled me and left me thinking of you. It was the little things that brought the waves of time crashing into me again. A certain melody, a word, a breeze was all it took to make me feel something I had only felt with you. A quickly fleeting but also lingering feeling I had forgotten and didn’t think I would feel again. A feeling that tightened my heart.

I didn’t resist it like I used to. I let my thoughts drift in reverse through the painful memories and let my heart soak up the bittersweetness. 

I had been the one to leave the voicemail. It had been me who had broken up with you, but it had felt like the opposite.

You welcomed the farewell. You told me that you had wanted to end things months ago but never had the time to get the message through. Those words had dropped my heart and shattered it into a hundred jagged pieces.

I wish I had known that that was the last thing you would tell me. It would have saved me countless hours of heartbreak. 

I asked you the questions that raced through my head. But you never responded. All you gave me was silence and that silence pieced straight into my heart. My thoughts were relentless and clung to me like deadweight. I could not escape them. “Where did I go wrong? Why were you not responding? Were you sad? Did you feel anything at all?” The thoughts repeated themselves constantly plucking at my heartstrings - tearing them apart. 

Silence was your answer. That was reality, but I found myself shutting my eyes and turning my head from the truth. There was no closure to that reality and I pushed it away as hard as I could but it would not stay away for long because it was my reality and I was already living it. 

I opened my eyes and looked around at the world around me. It was beautiful. This reality was beautiful. My reality was beautiful. The stillness of the twilight comforted me. The natural air cleared my mind. And the silence that hurt so much before felt like peaceful consolation. 

My thoughts of the present had reconciled with the past. The bitterness was no longer there, nor was the melancholy. My heart had healed and I felt neither contempt nor despair. 

That is not to say that I felt nothing at all. I felt a strong storm of emotions, but I also felt more grounded. I felt like the strong roots of the oak tree beside me, not like one of its quivering leaves ready to be snatched away by the wind. My emotions did not control me. The thoughts of you no longer controlled me. 

Movement caught my attention and my eyes drew itself to the sky. To the twinkling lights. I bestowed my gaze towards the dark universe as the infinity of stars stared gracefully back at me. It was impossible not to notice Sirius, blazing brightly in a sea of black. Some things in life are simply too blinding to ignore.

To me, you are like Sirius. 

Too impressionable to forget. Too memorable to loathe. Too real to escape. You will forever be a part of the sky I gaze at. The memory of you being just as unmoving in my mind as the stars are in the heavens. 

I used to detest this irreversible relationship we had created. I used to. But now I have grown up and I am quite glad that our strings of fate were once tied together. 

I no longer wish to unwatch the movie of our time together. I embrace it. I like to remember it. I like to remember the butterflies that once flew around me, the fire that crackled between us, and the emotions that flooded open doors within me and helped me discover myself.

The countless years we spent together have knit into something I could call my youth. A wonderful youth, filled with heart-stopping moments of happiness. I admit that it will be hard to not have you by my side - I can hardly remember when you weren't by my side - but I have come to terms with the fact that life moves on and time does not wait.

You taught me that love comes and goes. Friendships come and go. But memories stay forever.

I’m finally learning to love our tangled history.

“Are you?” is something I won’t ask, for I no longer need your answers. Mine are enough.