Goodbye is not a good enough word.

This morning I swam in Walden Pond while it rained. That was easy. That was pleasant. Evening time was Book Club for a book I really loved. Equally easy. Equally pleasant.

Then something harder.

I said goodbye to Max. He leaves for Brazil tomorrow, and won't be back before I leave. Elizabeth will join him, but is still in Cambridge for a few more days. After parting I rode my bike home with my hood up, and in addition to feeling like Elliott from ET, I felt grateful and slightly sad. Not crying sad, just sad. Maybe because Max and I have been friends since I was 20, and he and Betty were the only people I knew when I moved to Boston. Maybe because my first night here I slept on their couch. Maybe simply because saying goodbye made the fact that I'm moving seem more real. Either way, Boston was better because of them. Dessert First Adventure Club, Outstitute, and Pizza Month were better because of them, indeed existed because of them.

Somehow hugging them, and saying "Thank you for being my friends," didn't even begin to cover it. Not at all. But what else could I say that would be truer? Nothing.