see it coming.

the two of us, we laid there talking, two voices in the dark, and surprisingly, it reminded me of better times ... or not better but passed. my head near the foot of the bed, and one streak of streetlight breaking through the window over my stomach.

i'd resigned myself not to fall into some corner of attachment or connection or anything for fearing more pain, more loss. i didn't want to fall.

but now, i find myself still telling stories and still trying to define everything i see into my limited vocabulary.

and yes, i'm tired of goodbyes. and damn, i don't want to have to miss anyone anymore.

sometimes, i realize that the world needs my friends more.

and it continues, and we promise to write letters because there's three short weeks to create all the stories we can. somewhere in between, he showed me that i did still have a smile left.

thoughts are staying the same, and the electricity in my mind seems to have blown some pathetic fuse. as i'm just spent and sore.

yawning and quite dazed, ideas trickle down some plink-o type labrynth from my head to my fingers.

but i'm not bitter or resentful, i'm just sad. because i stare at our old phone number, knowing it's been disconnected for eight months or so, and i still want to call it. because i write letters to more people than i embrace. because leaving is outdated, and now it's just necessary and expected. because i love when people prove me wrong. because i never expected anything, and now, i'm sorry to see him getting ready to go.

this seems to be simply learning about goodbye.

as though "i'll see you soon" should be more than par for the course. as though final moments are better upon reflection.

but i tilt my head up, nonetheless, with some hope we made, or discovered, or found lying there in between us.

the train has left. casket lost under dirt. focusing all your mind on the intrigue as it all washes over me in a fade of blue and now.