on goodbye (again)

I think it turned ten o'clock but I don't really know, then I can't remember caring for an hour or so, started crying and I couldn't stop myself, I started running but there's no where to run to. I sat down on the street, took a look at myself, said where you going man you know the world is headed for hell, say all goodbyes if you've got someone you can say goodbye to.- Matchbox Twenty (How Far We've Come)
___________________________________________________

That was the worst goodbye in the history of goodbyes,

I say as I glance at him from the other side of the bar. He looks back at me, unphased.

What did you want me to do, throw you down and do you in the parking lot?

If ever there was a time to describe lightning flashing in one's eyes, I suspect mine at that moment would fit the description.

No. But I expected something more than a handshake and 'its been nice working with you.' I've gotten more personal goodbyes from people I've known a lot less.

I punctuate the statement by slamming the lid on top of the blender. I hate making shakes.

The blender whirls to life, and we lapse into silence, staring at eachother.

So, what, do you hate me?

I sigh as the blender comes to a stop, and pull the blender free of its base.

No, I don't hate you. I hate the fact that I don't hate you.