There's a vacancy in the heart of every person who says goodbye, but never truly meant goodbye. Why do we say that? Why? Why do we say goodbye to the friends we love? We push them away when they're the closest things to sanity that we have. Every moment spent with them is gutted and used as a reminder of how you failed. Utterly failed. It hangs in your mind and presses on your soul. They can't trust you anymore...and why would they? You were awful to them. Every single shred of light they brought to your life was blackened by distasteful arguments and uncontrollable rage.
I had this friend. A friend who was exceptionally peculiar yet brilliantly lovely. This was a friend who knew my world and I knew theirs. In fact, our worlds were the same. Just friends we were, but the best of friends. I wonder now what would have happened if I'd taken better care of that world. Not a world of fantastical creatures or grand appointments, but a world where magic was in a word. A world that would have coffee shops instead of castles, music and art would be our magic, and nothing could stop us. I suppose I should seek forgiveness for myself because of how I treated them. I just wish for one minute that my actions had said "See you soon" instead of "Goodbye."
