much more to say, foolish to try...
Friday, Nov. 30, 2012 @ 12:06 a.m.

The Muppets kind of cornered the market on cute-but-heavy stuff that simultaneously makes you want to a.) smile, and b.) cry -- especially, for example, in the song 'Saying Goodbye' with those precise lyrics. With time speeding by at a breakneck pace, another hard round of goodbyes is coming my way again. And this time I know that even Jim Henson couldn't help.

He's not around to offer anyway, and the recent Disney takeover leaves me doubting that I'll be able to turn to the Muppets at all in the future. So I'll go it alone, and probably fall back into my usual 'best leaving habits' which include (but are not limited to): burning bridges, severing ties and coming to diaryland to document my woe in painstaking detail.

Now, this time, and for a change, I've made some friends that I'm having trouble even thinking about leaving behind. And I'm not sure how to reconcile this unnerving feeling that (although I always do) I will never be able to walk away, with my lifelong habit of doing just that. Or with the obvious necessity of doing so, since the move is happening. Because I let it.

The pattern of disassociation is clear. I'll spend a lot of time in doorways. I'll start asking hard, unfair questions. I'll distance myself physically. I'll be abrupt, harsh, rash. I'll laugh ingenuinely. I'll stop making eye contact. I'll send cryptic messages, and then judge the recipient for failing to respond appropriately: 'appropriate' being an impossible measuring concept, bien sur. I'll make offhand remarks about inevitability and built-in obsolescence, prefacing excuses for not being available in the future.

At that point, it's usually close enough to the end that I can let actual spacial separation do the rest. Nobody likes to draw out goodbyes and since I've made myself a huge pain in the ass to be around, the last of it can be handled with an amicable 'see ya!' and a one-arm hug. Then I can drive to my new home, cry for a few months when nobody is looking, and pretend to be fine until being fine eventually becomes a possibility. It's all very emo. Especially the part where this way nearly always guarantees there are no future interactions to stir up unwanted feelings of longing and regret.

I've never wanted to break a pattern so desperately in all my days -- and I learned the value of patterns watching Team Umizoomi with Eva, so this is really saying something. I want to hold on...but I don't know how. I have no experience. And I've already started spending a lot of time in doorways.

Until I find out, I'll be looking at this move in the same way humanity may someday stand and watch the world end. Helpless to stop it. Compelled to watch.

Wishing this wasn't how it had to go.

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'Saying goodbye. Why is it sad? Makes you remember the good times you had. Much more to say, foolish to try. It's time for saying goodbye.'