She hates the sound that goodbyes make. Especially the goodbye that is one-sided. The one where you say goodbye forever. The one where you say “Goodbye, I love you.” and you hear nothing in return.
She hates the sound that goodbyes make. The ones that sound like terminal emptiness. The ones that sound permanent, never again with a response to follow.
She hates the sound that goodbyes make. The tears. The sorrow. The loneliness.
She hates the sound that goodbyes make. The silent sound of shattered hearts and broken souls. The tears that drip from her face.
She hates the sound that goodbyes make. The departing wishes. The final words. The final breaths. The final sighs. The finality.
She hates the sound that goodbyes make. The ones that are complicated and everlasting. The ones that lack the “see you again soon.” The ones that lack a future reunion and embrace.
She hates the sound that goodbyes make. The ones that mean letting go, forever.
She hates the sound that goodbyes make. The ones that mean the end, the finale, the forever.
She hates the sound that goodbyes make. Especially the ones that begin with two hearts beating, and end with only one.
She hates that sound that goodbyes make.
She hates goodbyes.
Especially the one that said goodbye to you.
