It's hard to say goodbye. I felt like the girl who fell from the swing seat. The hard thud, the feel of the wet earth on the knees, the dissipative swings before it completely comes to a halt.

My theatre of emotions has been a desolate place for some time. Suddenly a goodbye has to come like a disconcerting, inexplicable eruption backstage.

I know there's nothing wrong with farewell, of course. Hellos-goodbyes. They co-exist, a symbiotic partnership.
Goodbye involves the active effort to put what is "usual, status quo" into the keepsakes-box of memories. Hellos fill in the empty spaces, re-building that part of life that has been left behind. The pain is so real at beginning that perhaps only a temporal lobotomy will ease it. Thanks to the natural instinct of survival, the Self shall prevail. After all, the greatest devil is the one within the constraint of your mind and want.

The good times have been good. I doubt if I'll ever meet anyone with a mind so pure and simple, albeit annoying at times.
Life would not be the same anymore. So I shed a tear or two for the loss.

And as the dawn breaks, tears shall dry on their own.