I board the 51B bus and rush to get the seat next to the window. As I lie my head on the glass, I begin going through my day. Earlier that evening, I said goodbye to some of the people I see every day. After our meeting ended, I smiled a little harder, and I walked slower as an excuse to spend more time with them. “Bye!” they said, and they gave me a tight hug before they made their way in a different direction. I stood for a little while, watching them fade away into the noisiness of the city and the sounds of the cars. A melancholic feeling ran through my body, and I whispered a slow “bye” under my breath. I think about whether this is the last time I will see them. I put on my headphones and find refuge in Juan Gabriel’s song “Querida,” a song that played muffled through the walls of my childhood — I try to find familiarity in all the sadness.
“Querida / Cada momento de mi vida / Yo pienso en ti más, cada día”
I’ve never been the best at saying goodbye, but life has a way of insisting that I get better at it. Over the past few days, I have been getting myself ready for the moment our ways have to part — and I am not ashamed to admit that it always ends in tears. I start recalling the memories with each person I’ve met and decide on taking the longest route home…