Originally published July 12, 2014
You know how you always seem to know the perfect thing to say long after the moment has passed? And you mentally kick yourself for not having thought of it sooner because you know that if you say it later, someone will inevitably judge you as slow for taking so long to come back with it. I have the other problem instead. I put my foot in my mouth fully aware of the consequences, and I compose elaborate apologies in my head well before I go there. Worse, I feel all the emotions of saying farewell long before someone actually leaves, so I draft amazing goodbye orations in advance and never work up the courage to deliver them until after someone’s gone.
I’m about to part ways with someone with whom I’ve no history, little experience, and lots of respect and admiration. She impacted me quickly and silently, and in a week she’ll be out of my life. Not once have I made an attempt to secure a place in her life or invited her to share part of mine. With every opportunity that presents itself to get closer, my (annoyingly) automatic defenses kick in and put more emotional distance between us. Call it self-preservation. Call it fear. Either way, I shared parting thoughts intended for her with an impartial third party. The third party was moved beyond words and asked why I wouldn’t “say any of those things now” before all the physical distance is between us. Call it self-preservation. Call it fear. Comes down to the fact that in apologies and goodbyes, I’ve always been master of what to say after the worst of the storm is over… Even if I think of it before the storm comes.