Saying Goodbye

There’re hundreds of ways to say it, but sometimes you just can’t. My brain did it for me last night. 
I had a dream last night so vivid, so real, that I woke up crying. There were tears of joy, tears of grief, and pure release. 

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I had just been selected for a new space program, the Mars One. The other selectees and I trained for months getting into shape, learning ship mechanics as well as horticulture and other necessary living need-to-knows. I felt like a true Matt Damon. 

When the time came down to launch day, family came around, old friends dropped by, and just when the gates were closing, in walked Michaela Peck of all people. For a while, she just looked at me. I guess I’d changed my hair, maybe grown a little—inside and out. She just took it all in. Then she said the words I’m still waiting on from another, “I’m sorry.” 

It’s okay, I said. It is okay. I am okay. She asked why I didn’t fight for her, why I didn’t try to make her stay, and I told her that I didn’t want to be the crazy one. I’d rather wallow in my head than to send love letters and call begging you to come back. It’s not worth it. 

She said, “Okay.” 

I told her that I’d be gone for years to come, if I even come back; this was never a trip with a planned return. 
I asked for a hug. That’s all I ever need these days. And I counted every second of it, cherished it. 

And I felt great when I woke up because I left the dream in that moment. Nothing can go back to that dream and taint it. Nothing can tarnish it. And I cried because I was finally walking away from my side of things, finally letting go, finally saying goodbye. 

And now I can start my next journey. 

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