It always starts the same way. "Hello it's been a while" and then half-formed regrets hidden under word layers, wrapped up to conceal, deceive. A smile. Goodbye, farewell. The ache doesn't come from parting. Au Contraire dear one. It comes from what-ifs, might-have-beens, should-haves; and always the knowledge of walking away, letting a part of you go, a whisper on a breeze, a prayer.