Handbook for departures and how to say goodbyes

Never leave packing to the last minute. It is a labour of immense scale
To uproot ourselves into cardboard boxes and to let go of belongings that 
Press their faces against us and scream out a fragment of our lives. 
Do not be afraid to leave things behind. It is summertime, and we have no need 
For a winter pelt that will suffocate us with sentimentality. We shed as we go.

Always check drawers for a book or a slip of letter; always check electronic sockets 
For the tangled half-beaten chargers; check the wardrobe to verify that 
Only hangers stay behind like rattling ribs; check the bathroom to make sure
You have cleaned it; check the drawers again out of anxiety.

Double the budgeted time for moving. No matter how often you do this
You will always be blinded by hubris; running into loose threads or
Into people who wish to loiter in our lives for just a little longer talking
About nothing, skirting around the painful task of goodbye. You will not be like them. You have this handbook for efficient economic evacuation. 

Now, for the goodbyes, write the most important ones a letter. Let your 
Most eloquent self do the talking; do not trust yourself when caught at an intersection
Or in the headlights of an abrupt last conversation. Tears leave less of a mark
On paper and dry faster without a witness. Smiles are better ways to be remembered.
Seal the parting with a hug. Open your arms early as you catch the winds of the 
Final words in a dying conversation. Always give your best hug, even when awkwardly
Reciprocated or toes were stepped on in closing the distance.
Always. Let them know they are close to your heart no matter the distance.
Count two steady heartbeats. It is not so long a time so do not
Cry. Do not cry, damn it, not when we’ve come so far. Not when you are cradled in the
Crook of a familiar neck, not when it is already hard to let go
To feel the rush of cold air in empty space and the retreating warmth 

Of friendship returned to arms’ length. This will be the closest you will be in years to come. Give them a smile whatever it takes, and walk away slowly as the doors to their lives close slowly and you catch the last glimpse of a wave. You can only see flashes of the ways this person’s life intertwined with yours. You think about the dreadful departure ahead, filled with more packing and more of such quivering partings, and wonder if you’re strong enough to stand against the steady beating of the currents of time without a chance to savour the bittersweetness of goodbyes.