Sometimes it ain’t the leaving that hurts.
It’s the quiet after.
The empty chair at the table,
the voicemail you don’t wanna delete
’cause the sound of their laugh is all you got left.
We grow up learning to be strong,
to hold it in, to pray it out,
to smile at folks even when our heart’s breaking.
But nobody teaches you how to let go of a voice,
a touch, a whole history
wrapped up in one person.
And when the goodbye finally comes,
it don’t feel like words
it feels like a weight.
Like church bells and blues guitars,
like your grandma’s hands on your shoulders,
telling you to keep walking anyway.
It’s hard to say goodbye
’cause goodbye ain’t never just a word.
It’s a prayer.
It’s a promise.
It’s a piece of your heart
you’re forced to leave behind.