Everytime I Say Goodbye

"From this day forward, Ms Chikididu is no longer in charge for food and travel columns," announced my superior in a closed meeting.

I didn't know what was going on after that, for I then just blacked out.

I've never been good at goobyes. Be uttering it to people, places, puppies, belongings, or even my columns. I hate myself for having a little too much bonding with things I've ever had a chance to hold them in my hands. Even if it's only a few seconds.

Those 2 columns were my babies. I didn't carry them in my unfruitful womb, but I did raise them like my own. I loved them every single week more than I loved my own life, that I was willing to gain 10 pounds during nurturing them. I crossed seas and climbed mountains just to keep them alive. I spent sleepless nights in faraway lands just to make sure they're happy. Every word I put on them, I crafted with such passion that each time I saw them in print and enjoyed by more than 650,000 readers nationwide, I could just spend hours looking at them with such a glow as if I'd just had marathon sex. And when people told me how beautiful my babies were, I simply cried happy tears and forgot all about the eternal fat dwelling in my ab or severely sore muscles in my entire body.

It broke my heart even more when knowing my babies were given to someone who doesn't even possess sheer enjoyement in writing, if not telling stories.

I just wish I didn't get this "promotion". I want my babies back. It's a cold and lonely place out there.