the trouble with adios

i really do hate goodbyes. more than i do long lines at the supermarket. more than running into an ex and his almost supermodel girlfriend. more than 30-mile-long traffic jams on the freeway with me stuck right smack-dab in it without a twinkie to munch on. i hate it. hate it, hate it, hate it. and i hate it that i find myself smack-dab in the middle of goodbyes more and more frequently these days. i've said goodbye to two friends in the last couple of years. one went and got hitched, leaving me to ponder the tragedy of serial monogamy by my lonesome. the other, meantime, left the country for good, following her bliss, going to her lover, off to be a stranger in an even stranger land. now, i hear another has caught sight of greener pastures and is contemplating leaving the radio biz for good. and here i am. stuck. stuck in a life that is, sadly, of my own doing. trouble is, i don't know how this came to be. how the hell did all this happen? i must've been looking... i don't know... elsewhere. i must've been hypnotized by something incredibly shiny at some random store window, when life tapped me on the shoulder - once, it tapped; twice, perhaps. and, seeing i was "busy", it must've shrugged its shoulders and went on its merry way. i hate goodbyes. they're never good, really. they're always bad. badbyes. that's what they really are. so what do i really hate? goodbyes? being stuck? i guess i hate being here, when everyone's off, leaving, living.

damn those fancy store windows.