Goodbye Day
By: S O L O M Ø N
Tags: Travel Writing, Mexico, Traveling, Short Story, Travel

Goodbye Day is a hard day.

Drawing by Mak Kean Loong

Joao hates Goodbye Day. He hates how it feels, how it sounds, and how he can’t ever do anything to stop it because he never knows when it’s going to come. Goodbye Day is tricky because it comes in all different types. And although they only come after something really really good, they always feel really really sad. Joao’s Diego however, has had 5 GoodBye Days, and honestly, it’s a miracle he’s survived them. And for Joao, he’s only had 3 Goodbye Days.

Joao’s first Goodbye Day was when he studied in Italy for five months his last year of college and ended up falling in love with another Brazilian in his class who lived on the other side of Brazil than him. All it took was five months in Europe and Joao fell in love. How cruel.

And it was then when he and the girl had to say goodbye and return to their ‘real lives, that Joao’s first Goodbye Day came. They left Europe and the feelings were never the same. Joao’s mother used to tell him the first Goodbye Day was always the hardest, but he never believed her until it happened to him because he thought that something that felt so good couldn’t be lost so easily.

Joao’s second Goodbye Day was different than the first. On this Goodbye Day, it was a goodbye to a friend, not a lover. What made it unique, was that the friend hadn’t died and that Joao hadn’t known him for longer than a day. In fact, they’d met by coincidence while waiting for a tour in Colombia. They hit it off right away, and at the end of the tour, went to a classic bar alone, since the couple that initially wanted to join opted out after the boyfriend said he wasn’t feeling well. What could’ve led to an awkward situation, instead turned to Joao and Kazuki bonding over beers, stories, opinions from a life lived in Brazil and Japan, and their newly gained fondness for Colombia.

Once they were both a comfortable amount of beers down, Kazuke suggested they take the gondolas up the mountains to a viewpoint over the city. Joao wanted to say yes, but he had to confess that he had spent his money for the day on the tour and drinks. Kazuki told him not to worry about it, he would pay for their tickets on the way there, up, and back down. Joao promised to pay Kazuki once they were down the mountain, but Kazuki told him to not worry about it. And so, Joao and Kazuki rose alongside the mountains like they were ascending to heaven; as beneath them, lay everything. The trees, birds, bugs, a sea of tin roofs and brick walls revving motorcycles, cruising trains, parked cars, children playing football, and the expanse of the city herself. A city that, unbeknownst to Joao and Kazuki until that point, was best seen from above. Once they arrived at the viewpoint, Kazuke bought Joao another beer, and they bonded more by telling stories and opinions about women, God, and passions, from a life, lived in Brazil and Japan, and about their newly gained fondness for Colombia.

It was on the metro platform at the bottom of the mountain headed back to the city when the Goodbye Day occurred. Joao and Kazuki were having a conversation when the train stopped, and Joao, certain this was their stop, and fully expecting Kazuke to be next to him, stepped off the metro into the station. Yet, it wasn’t until Joao realized he was talking to himself, that he turned around and then could only watch as Kazuke waved goodbye, before zipping out of the station, leaving Joao alone to his second Goodbye Day.

On Joao’s third and final Goodbye Day, it was again from a friend, but unlike Kazuki, this time it had been a group of them, and it had lasted longer than a day. This time, they had spent the week together exploring Barcelona. They didn’t know each other prior to meeting on Monday, but after a Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday exploring parks, going to the beach, getting drunk, telling stories, and cracking jokes, that by the time Friday had rolled around, it felt like they could’ve been a group of real best friends had they met in different circumstances in their respective home countries. And so, on Saturday, when the majority of the group accounted that they would be traveling north into Lyon, or east to the Basque country, Joao couldn’t help but recognize that his third Goodbye Day had arrived.

Joao walked the now quiet halls of the hostel where, just days earlier, had been filled with laughter and good company; and he said goodbye, one by one, to his newfound friends as they were readying to leave. And so, by the time the following Monday arrived, the hostel held nothing but new faces, and Joao felt as if his newly made happy memories were nothing but a dream. A hallucination even. And on the basis of that feeling, he decided that the best thing to do was to leave Barcelona. To set off for a new city, country, or perhaps even a new continent, although he was not sure why. All he knew was what he felt. And what he felt was that he hated Goodbye Days.

Because Goodbye Days are never easy, and they are never expected. And they only come after something really really good, yet always end really really sad. And yet, as Joao told these stories to his mother, the only thing she said to him was, “If you aren’t having Goodbye Days, how much of life are you letting yourself life?”

END

by

Solomøn Lovejøy