Nunc Ergo Amare Liceat || larry stylinson

Nunc Ergo Amare Liceat

good·bye

/go͝odˈbī/

exclamation

used to express good wishes when parting or at the end of a conversation.

synonyms: farewell, adieu, au revoir, ciao, adios; bye, bye-bye, so long, see you later, see you, sayonara; bon voyage; cheers; informal toodle-oo

antonyms: hello

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"Goodbye."

If anything was constant in Louis's life, it would be this word; goodbye. He'd heard it far too often to consider it anything other than normal now. He remembers the first time he heard to mean something anything other than 'see you later'.

Louis was two. He hadn't yet learned the meaning of the world, let alone what it meant to truly say goodbye to someone, know they'll never see you again.

He heard arguing in the front entry way, maybe a little begging. Whatever it was, it scared Louis. He padded to where his parents were, only to see him mum and dad at the door, his dad's suitcase tight in his hand. When they heard a noise, they saw little Louis standing there, sucking his pacifier and watching them with wide blue eyes.

"If not for me, then for Louis," his mum whispered to his dad.

"I can't Sara, I'm sorry," he whispered before he squat down with his arms open wide for Louis to run into. And he did. He ran to his daddy and into his chest, causing him to stand up and set Louis on his hip. "I'm gonna miss you bud," he whispered.

Louis pulled back and touched his dad's face, the unasked question ringing loud in the air.

"I'm sorry Lou, I love you. Goodbye."

He was set down and with one last kiss on his forehead, his dad left him standing in the doorway without another word.

Louis remembered that day clearer than he thinks he should. But he thinks about it often. His heart clenches at the memory of his father leaving two year old him standing on the doorstep, wondering where his daddy was going and when he'd be back.

His next goodbye was half-expected. His grandmother was battling a long battle of lung cancer. Louis was six at the time, but he remembered the day like he was still there, still holding his grandmother's cold, lifeless hand.

"Grandma are you gonna be alright?" Louis asked, his small voice loud in the empty hospital room. He was scared. He's never been in a hospital, and now he was here, alone in his grandmother's room while his mum ran to use the bathroom quick.

She gave him a small smile. "Only if you'll believe I will Lou. But please remember that I'll always be with you and I'm always watching over you. I love you Louis, and I'm not scared to say goodbye."

Louis kissed his grandmother's cheek as a smile filled her face. He gently held her hand while her breathing slowed to a stop. He remembers just staring at her, almost willing for her to wake up and skip rope with him like she used to, but it was no use, she was gone.

That was also the first time he's experienced death. He remembered his mum crying for days on end and stream of aunts, uncles, and cousins all streaming in as they all grieved together. But Louis was numb to it all.

He was the youngest, so it wasn't like he anybody to play with. The younger one before him was ten years older than him. Louis was an accident to both his mum and his father. They were told she couldn't conceive a child, so when he came along, they were ecstatic. At least it seemed that way. Until his dad wanted more children and his mum couldn't give him anymore, causing him to walk out on them both.