A Goodbye Without Closure

Some memories don't fade. They echo...

You didn't hug me that day.

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For some people, different kinds of memories are etched into their head and for different reasons. Happy memories. Sad memories. Traumatic memories. And there's this memory with you—it's none of those but it's stuck in my head. It's not happy. It's not sad. It's not exactly traumatic either. It feels.. unfinished.

It's the kind that sneaks up on you with waves of "what ifs". The kind that leaves you restless, wondering what you could have done differently. The kind that plagues you with endings you can never change, simply because it’s too late. The ones you may be ready to give anything to travel back in time and relive and even redo..

This memory turned nine today.

I remember it with the same clarity I use to draw the pattern that unlocks my phone.

We had just finished exams. Everyone was excited, loud, bubbly. We were going to be senior secondary students in the next academic session. I'd be saying goodbye to my pinafore, and you, you'd finally swap your shorts for full-length trousers. We were excited. All of us were. That transition marked the beginning of the end. Our days in secondary school were winding down

You probably finished early first in your hall. I was still inside mine when I saw you through the window, stretching your neck, your eyes scanning the classroom. I knew you were looking for me. I smiled inside my heart.

Our invigilator left, and your tall frame walked into the frenzy my class had become thanks to the screams of joy, the flying of shredded exam papers, the tossing of pens in every direction, and the hugs being exchanged like they were currency.

You were walking to my locker but you weren’t smiling. Your face was drawn, tense. My chest tightened instantly. Something was wrong. You asked if we could step outside, said you had something urgent to tell me. I nodded, and told you to give me a minute to pack my things.

That was when your twin walked in. "Have you told her yet?" he asked.

I looked up at you. My heart started to thump. I asked you what was going on and you said we couldn’t talk there, that it was too noisy. So we walked to a quieter part of the corridor, you, me, and your twin. I looked at you and saw crease lines on your face. Whatever you were about to say was causing you great distress. My heart started to pound even faster. I was quiet. I didn't want to rush you. Take your time, I thought.

You opened your mouth, then closed it. Again. And again. No words came out. It was like the sentence sat on your tongue, too heavy to lift. And then your twin stepped in.

"We’re changing schools. We won’t be coming back next term. Mum says we’re relocating to Lagos. So this is the last time you’ll see us."

I thought it was a joke. A prank. The kind people play after exams just to stir emotion. But I was wrong. Dead wrong. Your twin wasn't joking. It was the truth.

That moment was going to be my last with you. And it was already counting. It was already fleeting. I wasn't going to get an extra minute, the moment we walked out of the school gate and parted ways to the different direction our homes were located, that would be it.

I looked at you. Unsure of what to say. We were in school. I couldn't do anything. I wanted to hold you. But that'd have been flagged inappropriate.

You wrote down your uncle’s number for me. I gave you my sister’s. You said you had to go—there was packing to do. You were leaving the next day.

My heart was too heavy. Everything was happening too fast. I grabbed my bag and followed you both. Immediately, we left the school gate and were outside school premises, I reached for your hand. I didn’t care who was watching anymore. I needed to feel you. I'd never had that privilege. And this was going to be the first. And well.. the last.

You looked surprised when I took your hand, but you clasped yours over mine. Tightly. We walked in silence. Slowly. Like if we walked slow enough, we could delay the goodbye. But before long, we arrived at the bus stop.

It was time.

I looked at you. I could feel it, the million things you wanted to say but didn’t. Or maybe couldn’t. You gave me a faint smile and slowly disentangled our hands. Then you waved.

Just a wave.

Your twin, ever the blunt one, patted my shoulder. "He wanted to ask for a hug but didn’t know how. Small boy."

Then he joined you in the bus.

I stood there until Joy came to drag me away.

And that’s when it hit me. This was it. I was never going to see you again. That was the last time I would ever see your face. The last moment. The final goodbye.

The first tear slipped down my cheek when Joy asked if I was okay.

And for everyday after that day that memory of you, of us, has never left me. Instead I've been haunted and plagued by endless questions and thoughts.

Why didn't you tell me to hug you? You could have said it. Or maybe I should have offered it instead? Why didn't I? I never got the chance to tell you that I liked you too even though I'm sure you knew I did. But you deserved to know. To hear it from me.

What part of the world are you in now? Do you still remember me? And this moment? You're probably finer now. Taller. Bulkier. Smarter. Maybe even funnier, less shy and more confident. Do you still like Math? Are your brows still slightly parted the way your barber used to carve them, giving your face a beautiful look?

Do you miss me? Do you ever think of me?

Maybe I'll never know. But I do know one thing..

You should have hugged me that day.

And maybe if you had, this wouldn’t hurt quite the way it still does…