Twice, Goodbye

I'm not desperately in love or searching for love. I just found it desperately sad to lose someone, in different situations, twice.

He simply said, "goodbye."

It's been over 4 years since we first spoke, first exchanged numbers, first shared about each other. first confessed,

first everything.

But it all ended with

that

last 

statement.

But...how did we get there? 

I remember that I first met... 

his voice. 

I was the new member of the choir and everyone was talking about inspirations during Saturday rehearsals.

I remember that they asked me who mine was, and I didn't know the answer. 

I didn't know what to say when everyone expected me to answer a celebrity's name, and that could never be my honest answer. 

It was him who spoke instead of me. He understood that the beauty that drives people to pursue their passion is found within themselves. I could hear it in his voice. And so that's what he told everyone. 

That I was an inspiration. 

I remember that his voice surprised me. I turned my head a little to the right, and I saw him sitting on the stairs, wearing a gray hoodie, listening to our conversation. And when I turned, he smiled. I felt it was an invitation for me to speak to him. I asked him his name, like any new person in a new group would do. Asked about what he does and where he went to school, whom he finds his inspiration in, that kind of stuff. 

I remember enjoying that conversation and forgetting his name, meeting him again and exchanging numbers, continuing our conversations through technology. He told me about his music. He told me about his video games. He told me about his dreams. He told me about his passions. I learned about his talents because he had so many. We sang together and wrote together. He amazed me. 

His words were different from how others used them. He knew what to say. And on a particular day he asks me who I would rather be stuck with on a deserted island. But I felt his message was clear. He may even have wanted to answer first. I let him. That was how it began. 

Everything became beautiful, then. From the sunrise, to the sunset, to the stars that still shine in the smoggy night. He spoke to me every day, wondering if I'm okay. He called almost each night to talk about almost anything under the moon. I loved listening to him, letting him know that I do listen to every word he says. It was a strong kind of feeling I had for him. 

But

I was still afraid. Constantly fighting with myself, with the idea that he might leave me, or if he doesn't, am I ready for a relationship like that at all? Sometimes I believed, yes. Sometimes it was no. My own voice told me I wasn't ready, but I wanted to be, but I wasn't ready. I only wanted to be.

One night over the phone, he told me it wasn't going to work. The tears I've cried, I still didn't understand why it was so much. I wanted to hold on to something that no longer existed. I still believed that we could make it, until I found out it was too late. There was already another person in his life. 

I remember crying because I thought there was hope for us. I remember getting angry when I found out I had no hope. But I also remember his apologies. 

He never intended to hurt anyone, including me. He wanted to be good friends, like we promised each other when either of us ever decided that it should be over. And that's what we began to aim for. It worked for a while, and we went back to our normal selves. His new love seemed okay with it. I went on with my life and everything was going great. I've been meeting new people and developing my own talent. I've found new inspirations along the way. And for the first time in a while, I've been truly happy. But nothing could ever be the way it used to be. 

New inspirations are made. New passions grow. New promises are made. 

And he told her that he will love her and would do anything to let her feel that love. 

She didn't like me. She didn't like that I still spoke to him. She didn't feel comfortable about us being friends anymore, even when the friendship is genuine. She didn't know me. She didn't trust me. And it was only because of me that she wouldn't trust him. 

I remember that he had a difficult time with it,

choosing, even if he wasn't supposed to be in that situation.

Between friendship, or that kind of relationship where he found his new inspiration. When he said, "She's different, I can feel it. I know it," I remember that he said the same about me. When he said. "She's special, there's just something about her," I didn't want to object. All I wanted is for our promise to stay as it is, so I tried to compromise. I would limit myself from talking and listening to him. I would limit the times I see him. I would limit myself from almost anything he tells me, but it wasn't enough for her. 

On my birthday, he called me up. He said she wasn't happy. I didn't want him to hurt her. But everyone else, not just me, feel that it's hurting him. I told him that he should think for himself. He said she was different. I replied that everyone feels that way in a relationship. He said she wouldn't trust him completely unless we cut off our friendship. Silence. 

I had a party at my place that night, and three of my guests, who went home later than the rest, were listening. They seemed as bothered as I was. I took a deep, quiet breath. Everyone knew he chose her that night. What else could I do? I can't control his feelings. I realized I had to let go of a friend... But finally, I agreed. He wasn't completely happy about it either. I could hear it in his voice. 

After our short, parting words, after talking about hoping that it would not be the last time we spoke to each other, in a second, I thought about the different kinds of love I felt for him, the different memories I shared with him, and telling myself This is it, hopefully for now. The last thing that I'll ever feel from him, the last memory of him to hold on to, was his voice. And after all these thoughts ...

he simply said, "goodbye."