Gambling with Goodbye

"Cause goodbyes are like a roulette wheel You never know where they're gonna land First you're spinning, then you're standing still Left holding a losing hand." ~Better as a Memory I hate goodbyes. Any kind of goodbye, really, but especially the ones that are forever. The ones that mean the end of a dream. The ones that mean the end of a way of life. The closing of a door. The disappearing of taillights. The barricading of a path. The breaking of a heart. Because no matter how right it is, you still feel like you're losing. In the end, you are still empty. It is still the end. Where there was once promise and hope, there is now emptiness and numbness. Sometimes pain. But mainly just a gaping hole. A hole the shape of whatever you're saying goodbye to. You can bandage yourself with reasons and justification, wrap it tight with all the right answers and all the right motives, but it is still a wound. A slow-healing wound that won't close even months after you've said goodbye; a wound that will scar with no regard to the careful attention you give it to prevent just that. When all is said and done, you're left with a scar: a memory of something lost that can never be regained. You've made your bet, cast your dice, played the right card, soared high on hope....and lost anyway, no matter how flawless you were trying to play, no matter if you thought that you were making all the right decisions about the game. Because goodbye's like a roulette wheel. You never know where you're going to land.