Dear

Knock, knock, knock.  

You wipe the tears that had begun to slip down your cheek like a raindrop on a car window. You turn and open the door, hoping that I don't notice that you've cried.  

But I see it, I feel it. The way you breathe and the thinly veiled sad smile, the colour of your eyes and the heaviness of your words when you speak give it away like a wet pavement let's us know that it's either raining or that it has been recently. 

You look me in the eyes, wordlessly guiding me, telling me exactly what I need to do as another tear rolls down your cheek. My hand reaches out, gently caressing your face as my thumb erases any trace of that tear. You lean your head into my supporting hand as you grab onto my wrist and pull me closer to you. 

Before either of us knows it, we're locked in a tight embrace that seems to last forever, and even then it isn't enough. Neither of us says anything when we finally break the hug. We both know that no amount of words can make this any easier or change what's about to happen. Our final farewell is upon us, and we accept it. 

Goodbye, my dear friend.