The Last Goodbye
I leaned in because I knew.
This was it.
The last time I’d be this close.
The last time I’d feel your skin under my hand,
your breath near mine.
I kissed your forehead—slow and shaking—
because that kiss was all I had left to give
before I had to let you go.
My lips touched your skin like a plea.
Not to stay—
God, I wanted you to stay—
but to know.
To know how deeply you were loved.
To know I was right there.
To know it was okay.
And then I whispered it.
The words I never wanted to say.
You can go.
Not because I meant it.
But because love sometimes sounds like surrender.
Because I saw how tired you were.
Because holding on was hurting you now.
So, I broke my own heart
to make yours free.
I didn’t say goodbye like they do in movies.
I choked it out between sobs.
I held your face and said I’d be okay,
even though I wasn’t sure I ever would be.
That was the moment.
The last kiss.
The last I love you.
The last time we shared this world.
And no matter how much time passes,
that moment still wrecks me.
Because when you said nothing back—
that’s when I knew you were already halfway gone.
And I was the one left holding the goodbye.
My book will be available soon.
This is a collection of writings centered around grief, love, loss, and learning how to keep living after life changes forever.