She shifted in bed and faced the wall.
There was that stinging in her chest again.

She remembered he liked that singer whose song she had been playing the whole day.

Too good at goodbyes?

Nope, she wasn’t particularly good at saying goodbye.
For she always found herself stuck on that part where you had to cry an ugly cry and see your heart break, a hundred and fifty times over.
And she never went past that.

Perhaps it was due to her faulty attachments too;
That she always puts a hefty amount of trust in people.
That she tirelessly hopes for things to change for the better.
And that she still believes in the little voice in her heart saying she should not give up on him, so much as she would not give up on everyone else.

She shifted in bed again, facing the window.
The sky was blank and there were no stars in sight.

She told herself that in life, there always had to be goodbyes.
Same as when there always had to be nights when there were no stars.
And that goodbyes, and starless night-skies would always have to be sad.

She sighed and said goodbye to the night.

She knew she was considerably good at accepting things, it’s just that, she knew too, that she would never be any good at saying goodbyes.


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