I Am No Good At Goodbyes

I really struggle with parting from people. Saying”goodbye” face to face is just too daunting for me. I bottle it. I am so much better with writing the words down – how I feel, how much they mean to me, and trying to make sure that they know I am not leaving because of them, I am leaving because of a challenge I cannot overcome, or because of an opportunity that I cannot turn down.

Like many other bloggers and writers, my love of writing began with letters to friends and relatives. In some ways, everything I write is a letter. I don’t always know who it is addressed to….but it is from the heart and I am hoping that whoever reads it will understand and relate to it, perhaps even treasure it.

I have some pretty cards….and I am going to write messages in them for some of my colleagues who I will miss immensely when I leave at the end of this week.

Can you believe how quickly this is all happening? Next week, I start my new job. Crazy hey!! It does not seem long ago when I was convinced that I had completely embarrassed myself during the interview process.

Now I am preparing by sorting out my wardrobe – no more uniform – and making sure I revise on the kind of work I will be doing in my new role.

But it is very important to me to write these goodbye messages. I would not be able to forgive myself if I did not do this.

Tomorrow I’ll Miss You

Since I hail from Liverpool, I am used to hearing The Beatles music. I have grown up hearing their tunes, and many of their songs I know off by heart. I don’t normally think about the lyrics because I know those songs as well as nursery rhymes.

But I heard a popular track the other day from The Beatles…and it choked me up! The thought of having to say goodbye to Goldfinch is a very unwelcome one! Yup…I sure will miss him! I think you knew that aleady.

Could Someone Please Tell Me How On Earth To Say Goodbye To The Man You Are Head Over Heels In Love With?

How do you feel about the following word: FLASHMOB???

If you are not sure what that means – and please be assured it is not remotely rude – there are videos below which will explain it all! I have seen scores of such videos, but if you have never seen one before, prepare to be enthralled!

It’s essentially about surprising people by breaking out into a carefully planned and choreographed routine of singing or dancing. Or on other occasions it is a a team of classical musicians who deliver an incredible show for the public. But the most memorable flashmobs have taken place at very busy transport stations – airport terminals, major train stations, public shopping areas.

Love it or hate it – I have been part of a flashmob myself and I think it is absolutely amazing! A friend of mine Darren, was travelling back to Africa, after losing his beloved wife to cancer.

The entire infirmary team and special invited guests gathered for a goodbye for Darren. We had been practising a flashmob routine of the song “In The Jungle, The Mighty Jungle“. It went perfectly. We were so impressive, we were asked to do it again at a large event a few weeks later.

We have done a “Sound Of Music” flashmob too! And a Bollywood flashmob. Honestly, they are so much fun!

I did think about surprising Goldfinch with a flashmob at Heathrow airport! Yes, seriously. Some of my friends thought it was a great idea and I have plenty of contacts who I am sure would help me out.

However, I have had so little time with Goldfinch this past month, that I don’t want anyone else to intrude on my time with him. In addition, there is the possibility that Goldfinch might have hated it!

I just want to be on my own with him and be able to whisper sweet nothings into his ear and hold his hand tightly right up to the moment I am forced to let go.

I want to dance with him at London Marylebone station when he arrives and I want to dance at Heathrow with him. I don’t need a team of dancers with me. I just want to hold him close and somehow communicate how wonderful he is and how happy he has made me.

Oh dearie! Goodbyes are so hard!

I think I need to watch these flashmob videos myself to cheer myself up:

So hopefully. the video above gave you an idea. However, if you are still not convinced, take a look at how the Belgians approach flashmob. The two videos below are amongst my favourite flashmob scenes.

I don’t know what the Belgians put in their tea, but they seem to be the leaders in flashmobism.

 

 

Everyone Kept Saying That I Had To Let You Go… I Love You, You’re The Love Of My Life

I am so so sad that Goldfinch is leaving. Oh I can’t tell you!

But what I am finding very very hard, and annoying too…is that this impending departure is stirring up everything in my heart to do with Jack. I keep on thinking about Jack, when more than ever I want to think of Goldfinch, and only Goldfinch.

That’s what happens when your heart has never really healed. It interferes with other relationships, other goodbyes.

It’s amazing that despite all the joy that Goldfinch has brought me, and the fact that it is very sad and very hard having to say goodbye … it’s the deep grief about the rift between Jack and I that is dominant still. Feelings of sadness over anything trigger memories of Jack and the deep sadness he stirred within me. That’s a brain malfunction isn’t it!

All week I have been battling memories of Jack and everything that happened between us. I keep on thinking about the cocktail party I walked into only to find that there was only one other woman beside myself and three men including Jack. I was alarmed, why were there so few people there? Both of the other two men (Benny and Tom) had asked me out in recent months. I mentioned them in another post actually:

 I had been to the Royal Albert Hall with both of them on separate occasions.  I had been out for dinner many times with one of them. We were good friends, and we had worked together on many projects. The other I had worked with on a fraud case – we both worked in accounts for many years. He liked classical music, he took to me to a few recitals. I had known both of them long before I ever met Jack. They were both flirting with me. I think the vermouth was making them both giddy. I was so uncomfortable. I kept on looking at Jack, trying to make it clear how unwanted the attention was. I wanted to be sitting next to him. I wanted attention from him.

Jack was being an oaf at the time! For weeks, he kept on making sly comments about me being all the boy’s favourite. I had not been involved with anyone since I had met Jack. I had been out for a drink or a meal or to the cinema or theatre with some men who had asked me out. However, I had made it clear to them that I was not interested in them.

The morning of that horrid cocktail party, I had made another attempt to settle the situation with Jack. Around half five that morning that I had pushed a note under his door asking him if he was being unkind about me because he was jealous. I told him in that note that I cared about him more than any other man. I told him that although I had lots of male friends I was not encouraging any of them. I stated I was not interested in any other man.

Jack was not inviting me to do anything with him, not a concert, not dinner, not a coffee. Jack was giving me sly glances and making sly remarks about me. I just looked at Jack with pleading expressions. I wanted to talk, but he made it so difficult for me. Many times he was downright rude to me in public.

I turned up at the party, which was far smaller than I was expecting (have you ever been to a party for only five people?), wearing a stunning cocktail dress (if I do say so myself) and Jack was sat at the far end of the room. I was terribly cautious of him, because he was so unpredictable. I did not want him to be rude to me, plus on that very morning I had pushed that note under his door and I did not know how he felt at that point. He sat at the oppoosite end of the three-seater sofa from the only other female in the room (who was named Selina), not looking at her once. He perched there glaring at me all evening, while the other two men sat either side of me merrily sharing memories of strange things that had happened on projects we had worked together on. They both were paying compliments to me and topping up my martini glass. Selina was obviously fed up with the situation. She left after an hour. She lived in the same apartment block as Tom, who was our host for the evening. I was not going to leave before Jack did.

I made sure I left with Jack. I was absolutely determined to. I tried to talk to him about it while we were standing at the bus-stop. He would not hear what I had to say. The bus arrived and I realized some of the passengers recognized Jack and they were taking photos of us together. Jack was silent and broody with me, but when his fans started to speak to him he responded by being lively and making them laugh.

Isn’t it ridiculous that after spending a wonderful year with gorgeous Goldfinch, all I can think of is Jack? I think I should come with a warning / caution label for any future man who sets his sights on me. I have never had the chance to heal from what happened to Jack. I can love. Boy can I love. I can love another man, just as I have truly loved Goldfinch. But the damage is still there, and until I have chance to square things with Jack, I do think he will keep popping up at unwanted times. He will always be a cloud on future joys. A Jack shaped cloud.

I am going to try to keep Jack in the box and high up on the shelf. I don’t like him jumping out of the box at unwanted times. This should be Goldfinch’s week.