Goodbye

A hush begins to settle over the train station as each traveller quietly whispers goodbye. The crowd starts to thin as daughters say goodbye to mothers, friends to other friends, husbands to wives. A man in a crisp silver suit kisses his small son on the head as he leaves for a week-long business trip. The walls of the cavernous white space are filled with silent expressions of love and sadness.

            And in amongst them he watches her go. The long brown hairs sways hypnotically as she pulls the red suitcase further into the distance. As bodies swim around him, she vanishes.

‘Saying goodbye is fucking hard, man. Let me tell you,’ he takes a long drag from the cigarette. It ignites with orange light and then falls in clumps of grey ash on the dark carpet. ‘One minute they’re there with you, and you see their every movement, every expression. The shifting of their eyes, their smile – everything - and then suddenly they’re gone. You know they’re still out there, somewhere, but their existence is now a fucking mystery to you.’

            He stares at the ceiling, resting on the floor around piles of his dirty clothes. He takes another puff of his cigarette, and smoke billows out in great swirls as he continues. ‘And you let them go. That’s what really fucking gets me. I let her go. I should’ve grabbed her, twirled her round, got down on my knees and fucking begged. But I didn't, I just...’ He readjusts his glasses and scratches his chin. ‘I just watched her go.’

            Jim lifts himself up into the sitting position behind him, taking a long drag on the fat joint in his hand. His belly folds over as he sits, engulfing any hint of a waistline. ‘Dude, you need to fucking chill, alright.’ He gestures around the grotty bedroom. ‘Goodbyes are part of nature. It’s the way of the fucking world, man!’ He rubs the corner of a bloodshot eye, portraying a distinct loss of interest in the subject. ‘Besides, all that shit with her was weeks ago. You need to move on.’

            Tim sits up now as well. ‘Easier said than fucking done, Jim. What d’you think I've been trying to do for the past month and a half?’ He faces away from him, looking towards the drawn curtains. ‘You have no idea what it feels like.’

            Jim holds up his hands. ‘Whoa, whoa man, come on. Don’t get pissy. We’re Tim and Jim, remember? The gruesome twosome! All I’m saying is it’s time to move on. Find some fresh pussy to follow.’ Tim grimaces. Jim continues obliviously. ‘And yeah, maybe I don’t know what it feels like to get all lovey-dovey over someone. But I know what pot feels like, and it feels pretty fucking good.’ He holds out the stubby skin. ‘Here, have a puff. It’ll calm you down.’

            ‘No thanks,’ says Tim. They lie back down simultaneously, staring silently upwards for several minutes. The grey light of the day which had fought its way through the gaps in the curtains dulls to the deep blue of evening.  She had been the one. Putting all the shit, all the unnecessary crap that comes with a relationship, to one side, he really had loved her. Still did. He sighs. Always would.

            ‘You take it for granted, you know,’ he begins, piercing the sleepy quiet. ‘You take it for granted that a person is there. That you can hold them, touch them, see them, speak to them, kiss them. You don’t even think about it. Just part of daily life. And then suddenly they’re gone, and all of that is stripped away. You can’t just be with them anymore.’ He speaks quietly now. ‘And I never will be again’

            Tim sighs, closing his eyes. ‘I wonder what she’s doing right now.’