Goodbye

The crush of love when paired cruelly with inevitable loss…

by: Sarah Fader ((Header art is entitled “Saying Goodbye” by Kevin LePrince.))

The day I saw you for the first time you were wearing a dark gray hoodie. You stood there uncomfortably not knowing where to put your arms. But there was something awkward and kind in your smile. I wanted to hug you immediately, though we didn’t know each other. Slowly, I began to open up to you. You learned about parts of me that I don’t share with people easily. Only, it was different with you, because you cared. It was like free flowing words. They kept coming out of my mouth and into the air.

How do you do that? You always get it.

I realized that I could tell you everything. I didn’t censor myself. I was truly me when I was with you and you knew it.

You gave me everything too.

Everything.

103 percent of yourself and that’s rare. I had found in you a friend.

I’d given up on friends.

The last time I had a friend like this I was sixteen. I told him everything and he broke my heart.

When you came into my life I had this sense of impermanence. I knew you weren’t going to stay, yet I deluded myself into believing that this time it would be different. You told me it was safe to be myself. You would not judge me and you meant it. But it wasn’t going to last and I knew that.

Goodbye to you.

I’ll see you on the street and

it will never be what it was but

maybe I’ll touch your arm and

you’ll touch my hand and we’ll

remember what we used to have so

know that I care about you even if

we don’t talk

and I will always hold

a place for you inside of me

where we used to be together.

Sarah Fader is the CEO and Founder of Stigma Fighters, a non-profit organization that encourages individuals with mental illness to share their personal stories. She is an author and blogger, having been featured on Psychology Today, The Huffington Post, HuffPost Live, and Good Day New York. She recently released a collection of her essays from around the Internet entitled, Old School / New School Mom.