Goodbyes are hard.
Sometimes they are drawn out, like poison.
Those are the most painful, the ones that you know are inevitable but you still try to stop them from coming to realisation anyway.
I’ve had to say goodbye more times than I would like.
And every time I lose a piece of myself.
However, behind these sad memories of goodbyes are many happy memories.
Memories that are kept safe in little trinket boxes in my brain.
I can open them whenever I want and peek in.
I can look at them from a distance.
Sometimes Pain likes to climb up out of the trinket boxes and tries to tempt me closer.
He asks me, with a sly grin, ‘What if?’
But I ignore him,
For I will always have my memories,
So they will never truly be gone.