It’s hard to get past

A good-bye with no note

A good-bye with no words

A good-bye that’s not good, that’s not bye, that’s just gone.

I know the research, that it’s common.

It doesn’t make me feel less alone.

Less sad.

Less indignant.

Less angry.

Less hurt.

It doesn’t make me more understanding.

More compassionate.

More complete.

The only thing it gave me was ambition. Ambition to prevent others from feeling the way I allowed this to make me feel.

My way of opening a wound and allowing it to bleed where others can openly see is by telling no one about my feelings openly but guiding them through their own pain, grief and loss.

And I make my own good-bye without your help, permission or consent.

I’m still angry.