May 15, 2020

It was T’s last full day at the house today. Tomorrow afternoon, she will leave by plane for the great land of New Jersey, and then Eastward another nine time zones. It's a miracle she can even leave, but she has some magical pull with the embassy and greater understanding of world travel than I do.

To say goodbye, we helped her return things to Walgreens, pack, and allowed her to show us her favorite dubstep music videos for three hours. I wrote her a story, Special K gave her a hoodie, and we continue to make fun of her and laugh in her face, with good cheer, of course.

Saying goodbye always scares me. It feels like they’re dying in the same way that it feels like I am dying when I go to sleep: it’s just a going away. The hole they leave scares me, the uncertainty of next meeting. I, like many other traumatizees, have an immense certainty that everyone around me is on the brink of bizarre annihilation.

How do you say goodbye, I wonder? What does it feel like? Questions to ponder, but I must go for now, for my foot has fallen asleep and my vertebrae ache.

"they're doing businnec"

by Cecilia Bahls and Harry Jensen