Saying Goodbye

3 Jun

Since I’ve gained the independence endowed to a young adult, I’ve started reflecting more and more on the morbid possibility of kidnapping, murder, or death resulting from an accident, the #1 killer of teens. As a result, I am sure to end every conversation with my mother with a cheerful “I love you.” Now my mother is a pigheaded she-devil whom I fear and revere in equal parts- not really the touchy-feely type. But if I were to disappear, I wouldn’t want the last thing I said to her to be “What’s for dinner?” No matter how angry you might be, that split second, that noticeable absence of an affectionate goodbye, isn’t worth a lifetime of pain for its would-be recipient.
Maybe I’m overthinking it.

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