It’s not all the time now, the way it was when I was first in Wellington, a leaving do every weekend. Now it will be quiet for months and then there will be a big sudden push of Facebook invites to last-night-in-Wellington drinks. Since March, I guess, a lot of friends have been leaving, one after another, and after a while you don’t even cry that much, you just give the hugs and walk away, shaking your head and not wanting to talk about it. Two more left early this morning, from my guest bedroom, after leaving me a little note on my chalkboard wall sticker, a jar of honey, and a sparkly pink mustache pillow on one of my 80% couches. “Maybe you can come see us in Australia!” she said before we all went to bed before our various day jobs and 6 a.m. international flights. He emailed thirty minutes ago to tell me they’d got in okay.
What’s there to say, at this point, about the friends who come and the friends who go and the friends who stay? You say goodbye but you don’t mean it, you don’t believe it. You don’t know how you did without them before you met them and you wonder how you’ll do without them now that they’re gone. (You will do very well, as a matter of fact, and that’s something to wonder about as well. Are you fickle or are you realistic?)
It’s been a long time since I left anyone or anywhere: I stay, even though I didn’t stay. I’m staying. I will stay, or I won’t. I will stay, for a while. How long is a while? (“Five years, wow, you’re almost a native.”) I’ll go and come back; I’ll come back and back and back again. I’ll settle down, I’ll be torn up. I’ll forget what year it is and forget how long it’s been and will never be able to say, with any degree of certainty, how long it will be. I’ll be left behind, again and again, just they way I have left so many people so many times. I’ll come and go. I’ll keep staying. I’ll keep leaving.
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7 responses to “Leaving”
Do I even need to say that I hear ya, sister?
I kinda get like that.. like do I even worry anymore? I love parties, so go to going away parties I go to, but… you cope. Move on, life goes on. And, if you’re lucky, new amazing people arrive as others leave.
I also stay. And I am kinda liking it.
Know what I do? I just say in my head:
“Oh yeah? Leaving huh?
Fine, g’head cos…..I’LL SEE YOU IN HELL!”
Yeah not really…. but it would be funny if I did, right?
:)
As usual, I hear you on this one. I am tired of living in these “transient” places and sometimes I just wish I could stick everyone I care about down with superglue and not have to have all the leaving.
…once you’ve crossed the ocean, you’re always on the wrong shore…
This brings tears to my eyes. I know there is a time for stopping…but for now I shall weave you all into my web and hold on tight to our friendships and hope that there in the future I may meet you again and hug and share stories and make more beautiful memories with you.
It’s always easier to be the one leaving, not staying…which is why I always leave. Yet somehow I’ve managed to be left almost as often.
If only everyone would just stay put. On the other hand, then you wouldn’t have an excuse to take a jaunt across the Ditch to visit me in June, right? Amiright?