Bad Goodbyes

Friends,

I'm terrible at saying goodbye. If this was Seinfeld, a whole episode would be devoted to these bad goodbyes, which would be kind of like the guy who was a bad breaker-upper, but not quite. Anyway, I have never been able to do it with much meaningful success. When I moved up here, I spent my last night with my "Idiot Friends" as I've grown to call them at a sports bar that we rarely attended. We drank some, and I left early with a couple hugs and handshakes. Nothing really of note was said or done for old time's sake. No wacky, essay-worthy adventures took place. Just, yup, see you `round, if even that.

Today, I found out that Bronson is leaving for San Diego tomorrow. We had plans for a last few rounds of Rag Tops at Pub 500 on Thursday, but since he's leaving tomorrow, that won't happen. He'll be back to move his things on Saturday, but I'll be on the road between here at Madison, WI that day, more than likely. He'll be heading out to Fargo then Sunday. He called to cancel Thursday's meeting, and since he'll be back in the Mankato area once I'm in Madison, we had to say goodbye. And the best I could do was "Well, it's been fun." What the fuck is that? Honestly, it has been fun. But anytime you drive to Chicago with a man, and then play a significant role in getting him deathly ill, I think you owe him more than a "Well, it's been fun."

Bronson's hilarious and remarkably driven. He'll be successful at whatever he wants. He would make an excellent big brother. He's awesome at Zombies Ate My Neighbors. He loves Eddie Izzard. He hates the words p*nties and v*gina. I don't know how much longer I can go on ripping off Luke's "Reasons Why I Love" series. Let's just say, I'll miss Bronson more than "Well, it's been fun" suggests.

And you know, I've dropped the ball on other goodbyes this year too. Jessica? Just a little hug and some kind of goodbye that I don't remember, which is just terrible of me. Natalie? She didn't even get a hug, and barely got a goodbye from me (on my defense, I wasn't fully aware she was fleeing Mankato at the time), and that's downright criminal of me.

What am I going to do for an encore? Not even say goodbye to Catherine? Kill one of Phil's cats? Puke on Diana's porch again?

All of the people I know deserve so much more from me than what I have given them. And that's a damn shame. Let's hope I change that.

viva el mustache