I would love to put to rest the idea floating around that saying goodbye is simple. Ideally, I’d love to stand on a podium with a bullhorn and a foam finger, chanting at people who are vocalizing this rumor, telling them they are wrong.

Sometimes friends don’t settle into your life as concretely or significantly as others. A large amount of my acquaintances blur together, drifting in and out of my days without conversation or depth.

I want to remind you of something. There will be many glorious humans who will walk into your life, stand before you, look you in the eyes, and take your hand.

Sometimes these people will be quiet and steady, present and wise. Sometimes they will nudge you on and urge you to pick up the pace or slow down every once in a while. They will keep you moving up and down the track, allowing you to both raise your hands and hold on tight during the roller coaster of your life. Some friends will grab your hand with a fervor you’ve yet to encounter. These people hold a fire in them. Being engulfed by their presence is a gift.

The tug-and-pull truth that will both sustain you and tear you apart, is that these particular people will be temporary. Their companionship is fleeting, the strongest connections grow just as quickly as they dissipate. Don’t be discouraged by this. Don’t be disheartened or weary from having to say goodbye. Missing someone and being missed is an honor.

I don’t want to be surrounded by a sea of people whom I am comfortable with only because I know their company is anchored where I am. I prefer to be pushed by friends and encounters that drive me to wonder about the extraordinary creation of mankind, the diversity found in it, and the messiness and redemption that accompany it.

I vow to trust the journey enough to say goodbye over and over again. The hard, messy kind of goodbye that aches. I vow to believe there is always more to learn from new relationships and to have enough courage to unclench my fists and go forward.

I vow to leave enough room for every kindred spirit, past and present.

To you, my friends.