Salt From The Soul

I've never been big on goodbyes.
I mean who is? I like the romanticism, the range of emotions
experienced, but when it comes to goodbyes, try as you must
I won't cry.

I am a solitary crier.
Last year when I left Penang, my bestfriends threw me
possibly the best, most memorable goodbye party ever
there were presents and serenades, yet still I did not shed a tear
they must have thought I was a heartless bitch,all the while I was touched beyond words
but when I walked through the gates at the airport alone
that's when the floodgates were opened.

So today, Dom and the kids came, with their cards
their present, and NMTP and YM made bets on when I would cry
but me, I held my ground, and I will til I am
just about to embark on that plane
(escorted by immigration officials no less, just to make
sure I get on) wankers.

A barbecue, lots of hugs and kisses, photos, a card, a heart-shaped pendant
lots of 'i'll miss you's' and I get by,
glasses of rose, chardonnay, rose again, marie brizzard,
calvados, and now moscato.

To avoid salt from the soul, one must drink oneself into a stupor.

God, I hate goodbyes.