Why did we have to do a happy hour for your last day?
I wanted to leave before you. I couldn’t manage to move from my seat though because I knew it would be the last time. I thought some how leaving first would make me the strong one. Some how you would wonder where I had to go to that I was leaving early. Instead, I stayed until the very end.
There were only a few of us left when you stood and started shaking hands. You shook my hand too. Which was just the weirdest thing since we’ve never said bye without hugging. But, what was I to do? So, I shook your hand and tried to keep my face calm. Not showing the panic that the moment was here.
As you walked around the table to leave, I thought maybe you’d stop and hug me. But, no, not a glimmer. No recognition, no acknowledgment. I was just another person. No one special anymore. You just kept walking right out the door.
There was never a glance back on your part either. Why do we always hope for that? Why do we always think some how, some way, if we wish hard enough life just might turn out like a movie? It doesn’t though. Life isn’t a movie. If it was we wouldn’t need the movies to give us somewhere to escape and still hope, after all.
I watched your reflection fade in the mirror over the bar and said my silent goodbye as I saw the door open and you disappeared into the swirl of snow. Guess that’s as good of a movie ending as I’ll ever get?
