The Hollow Goodbye

I initially wrote this post in 2007 while processing the breakup of my college boyfriend. It is so honest and real, I feel I should share. Enjoy!

Last night, I spent the night with you. I woke up this morning an hour before my flight is scheduled to leave. I hate you. I run downstairs to wake you; I tell you we must hurry or I'll miss my flight. I was so busy spending the night with you that I didn't pack. I hate you. I frantically shove my belongings into the two large suitcases I brought with me. I need to shower, but don't have time. I am worried I'll forget something, but there is no time. I have to make my flight or my parents will kill me. I hate you.

You drive me to the airport, thirty minutes away. We pull up to the arrival lane fifteen minutes before my flight leaves. I scream, "This isn't where I need to be!" I need to be at departures. I'm going to miss my flight. There is no time. I have to get out and try to find it on my own. You can't walk me inside or your car will be towed. I'm so mad at us. I'm so frustrated that I'm smarter than you. I don't want to leave you. I want to linger over our goodbye. But I cannot. I kiss you quickly, as you help me juggle my bulky luggage. Why did I even want to spend a week with you before going home?

I must roll a suitcase in front, one in back, and balance my carry-on and pillow on top. I take three steps and burst into tears, as my carry-on slips and falls to the ground. I can’t do this. I hate you. I hate this. I hate us.

You run up to me, you look me in the eyes....and tell me to man up or I will miss my flight. You say you will park the car, and come in to make sure I made my flight. I fake composure, say I love you, and try to walk away as fast as I can. I hate you.

When I get inside, I see baggage claim. I am nowhere near check-in. I see signs saying it is upstairs. I balance my bags as I ride up the escalator. Once I reach the top, I can't see my airline check-in counter. I don't know if it is to the right or left. I choose left; it was right. I'm so frustrated, angry, and broken.

After dropping my suitcases several times while slowly maneuvering through the crowds, I manage to find the counter. I am told I missed my flight. A large lump develops in my throat as I hear those words of doom. I hate you. The clerk arranges for me to take the next flight out, in four hours.

I see you in the terminal, looking for me. I wave and catch your attention. I tell you I missed the flight. You look like someone punched you in the gut. Now, I must use your phone to call my mother, and ask her to meet me at the airport later. No answer. My flight was only 50 minutes, and the airport is an hour away from my house. She had already left. She has no cell phone. She will be walking around the airport waiting for me and I won't get off that plane. What am I going to do? I have to wait until the time that I would have been arriving and call the airport and ask them to page her. I call my dad at work to let him know what has happened. He is livid. I hate you.

We decide to go to breakfast. We have about three hours to kill before I need to be back to the airport. I'm upset, but relieved I get to spend a little more time with you. You take me to McDonalds. Neither of us feels like talking. I'm too anxious to eat. You say you had plans to go look for a job today. You are broke and your parents are pressuring you to be independent. I am ruining those plans. Spending time with me is ruining those plans. I can sense your resentment toward the situation and I hate you.

I want to jump into your arms. I want you to hold me. Tell me how much you love me and that everything will be ok. Tell me that you're here for me and will take care of me. Tell me that you have it all figured out. I've made myself believe your lies before, I can do it again.

I think we both know those stories aren't true anymore. We aren't going to live happily ever after.

We finish eating and you tell me you're taking me back to the airport. You have things to do, and can't wait with me all day. Those words are like a slap in the face. Last night, I spent the night with you; today, you don't want to waste your time on me.

You drive up to departures; amazing how you found the right place this time. I get out of the car with my carry-on. We embrace on the sidewalk and I painfully kiss you goodbye, knowing this is the last time I will ever kiss you. The words "I love you" stumble out of my mouth. I know they have no meaning. I wonder if you know like I do that I will never see you again.

I get to the door and watch you drive away. You don't even look back. As I stand in the security line, I am overcome with emotion that I quickly try to swallow. I knew this day was coming, but I never thought it would happen like this.

​I fought so hard to keep what was never supposed to be mine. In the end it slipped out of my hands and there was nothing I could do to stop it.