Today I am realizing the importance of goodbyes. Until today, I have never lost someone without saying goodbye first. The thing about goodbyes is that they come in all shapes and forms. “I hate you” is a goodbye. “I love you” is a goodbye. “See you later” is a goodbye. “We’re over” is a goodbye. But today, as the minutes passed and she became more and more distant, the freckles on her pale face blurring as she slowly drifted away from me, I realized that this time I would not get a goodbye. I would not get what I wanted most. Some closure, an ending; instead I was getting an unfinished story. I would not get to say goodbye. For the rest of my life I will bear the fact that there is a girl out there, a girl I cared for deeply and loved with my whole heart, that does not know or care that I will miss her forever. The story of She and I will be remembered exclusively and extensively by She and I. Only She and I will remember the way the sparkling wine tasted on that Autumn night, the way the smoke smelled in the music cub and how green the plants of that glorious summer were. The latte foam, the car trips, and the scratching of a new record on its player. Those tiny details, irrelevant moments, live indefinitely on in the minds of those two once happy girls, who are now capable of being happy anywhere but with each other. Today is not a good day.