'Good'Byes.

"Why can't we get all the people together in the world that we really like and then just stay together? I guess that wouldn't work. Someone would leave. Someone always leaves. Then we would have to say good-bye. I hate good-byes. I know what I need. I need more hellos." ~Charles M. Schulz

For a third time in my life, I'm faced with some significant goodbyes. (Actually, it's the fourth time but I was too little the very first time to truly understand what goodbyes mean.)
The last two times, it was me who was leaving. This time, it's a few close friends who are. Leaving for different cities and different countries or just plain venturing out into the 'real world', which is no less-distancing, I think.
There was a time when I was totally cool with goodbyes, didn't give them a second thought, even looked forward to them! Because they meant leaving behind the past and the people I'd known way too long. They meant new adventures with new things to experience, new friends to make.
What I didn't realise is that the very fact that you get too used to having certain people around means that it becomes difficult to function without them. Every little thing reminds you of them, makes you think of what their opinion would be about it, and pushes you into a well of memories that make you laugh and cry and wish that if only...you could see them again. If only...you'd realised just how much they mean to you BEFORE you'd all too happily bid them adieu.
This time, I do know what these people mean to me. (Like they say, experience is the best teacher) And that's why I dread the prospect of saying goodbye to them. I know the drill all too well. There will be the usual exchange of 'All the Best' and 'I'll miss you' and 'Keep in touch', with practiced smiles firmly in place. But all I'll really want is burst into tears and throw my arms around them and beg them not to leave me. But that, of course, would be highly childish (a show of insecurity too perhaps) and create an unnecessary (embarassing?) scene.
Nope, wouldn't want them to have that as a last memory of me. So I'll be calm and composed and act in a mature manner considered befit of twenty-year-old-one.
After someone is gone, for a while, the emails (or nowadays, wall-posts and offline messages) will pour in regularly, at least some news every week. You'll be updated on every detail of their new life, and it'll almost feel like they haven't gone at all.
Gradually, though, as both of you get over the novelty of them moving away and return to the usual things that keep life busy (work, studies, socialising) the messages will begin to fizzle out. You'll start depending more on each other's profile updates to know what's going on in each other's lives. At times, you'll visit their profile and see a bunch of unknown faces who seem to know them just as much as you do (did?) - or maybe even better than you do. And then, the child inside you can't help but feel a little sad and left-out that you're growing apart from this person who was once such an important part of your life. You can avoid it, deny it, reject it, but deep down you know it's true. So what if you'd always jointly pledged to be best friends forever? Forever does not exist, the rational part of you knows that. 'Life goes on,' the philosopher inside you will pipe up. 'People change, circumstances change. Change is inevitable. Change is good.'
With that in mind, you somehow manage to tuck the hurt away deep inside somewhere.
You continue to talk 'normally' with the person every now and then. Just that 'normal' has become synonymous with 'platonic'. It's no longer necessary to chat to them EVERY TIME they're online like it used to be. They're probably busy talking to lots of other people and you wouldn't want to disturb. Besides, there isn't much to say anyways. Beyond the usual 'Hey, how're you? What's up?' you're so blank that it feels uncomfortable. Where there was once endless chatter, so many things to share, and silly private jokes, there is now only silence. It's easier to NOT start a conversation in the first place when you know how it's going to end up.
When you sign off though, there is again the usual 'love you, miss you, keep in touch!'. But you can't help but wonder how much truth there actually is in those words anymore. Are you saying it more out of habit or compulsion rather than because you actually mean it?
The memories come back to haunt you, of carefree days where you'd never imagined being apart, of days that that are gone. For good. Days that were gone the moment you said that smiling goodbye. Yes, techonology has made keeping in touch real easy. The world seems like one small place where everyone is just a few clicks away, but is it really possible to have an entire relationship and not even look at a person?
That is why, I hate goodbyes. They mean endings. (New beginnings too, I know, but...) People should not leave. It seems childish to say that, selfish too. But I don't care, isn't everyone a teeny bit selfish about people they love?
However, at the cost of sounding cliched and going slightly off point, as much as I hate goodbyes, I can't help but think that they make up the very meaning of life. For like they say, the only guarantee in life is death. And what worse goodbye is there than that?