Realm of Thorns

The Weight of Goodbye

Joaquin sat on the edge of the plaza, his heart pounding with uncertainty. The vibrant colors of the town around him felt like a cruel mockery of his own sadness. Children played nearby, their laughter ringing through the air, while vendors shouted their wares, their voices bright against the backdrop of the sun-soaked afternoon. But Joaquin felt like a ghost, hovering at the fringes of the joy that surrounded him.

This was the place where he and Marco had spent countless afternoons, sharing dreams and laughter, planning for a future that now seemed impossibly distant. The bench where they used to sit, legs dangling off the edge, felt like a weight around his neck. He traced his fingers over the worn wood, the rough texture grounding him in the memories of a simpler time.

“Joaquin, I’m going to be someone,” Marco had said one sunny afternoon, his eyes alight with ambition. “I want to open my own business in San Pedro, you know? I’ll be the first one in my family to do it. Just imagine—our own store, filled with things we can sell. I can’t wait to make something of myself.”

Joaquin remembered how the warmth of Marco’s enthusiasm wrapped around him like a blanket. “And I’ll help you,” he had replied, his heart racing with hope. “We’ll make it together. Just you wait. We’ll both be successful.”

Marco’s laughter had been bright, like sunlight piercing through clouds. “You’ll be the best kargador in San Pedro! Everyone will know your name.”

But that future was now Marco’s alone, and Joaquin felt an ache of envy rising within him, sharp and unyielding. He glanced at the happy faces of the townsfolk and felt more out of place than he ever had. Their smiles were a constant reminder of what he didn’t have—their lives seemed vibrant and full, while he was stuck in a cycle of pain and darkness, dragging the weight of his father’s anger behind him like a chain.

Guilt washed over him, mixing with the envy. How could he feel this way? Marco was his best friend, the only person who had stood by him through the storm. The thought of harboring jealousy for his friend's success felt like a betrayal. But the truth was there, raw and real: as Marco moved toward a brighter future, Joaquin remained trapped in the shadows of his father's fury and his own insecurities.

What was he even doing here? He should have been packing his things, preparing for a journey into the unknown. But instead, he found himself frozen in place, a storm of conflicting emotions swirling in his chest. The weight of indecision bore down on him like a heavy fog, clouding his thoughts and obscuring his path.

Marco was about to leave. He was going to step onto that bus, and once he did, everything would change. Joaquin knew he should go and see him off, but the thought of facing Marco, of watching his friend leave for a new life while he remained trapped in this town, filled him with dread.

Suddenly, the weight of indecision became too much to bear. Joaquin stood up, heart racing. He could not let fear keep him from saying goodbye. He couldn’t let this be the last memory he had of Marco, nor could he allow his own doubts to taint their friendship. The thought of never being able to say those final words clawed at him, urging him to move.

With that, he took off toward the bus station, leaving the bench behind—a physical reminder of everything he feared losing. Each step felt like a declaration, a promise to himself to confront his emotions and not let envy shackle him. Marco had dreams, and so did he. It was time to find his own.

With a determined breath, Joaquin sprinted toward the bus station, his feet pounding against the dusty ground. The plaza blurred around him, the vibrant colors of the market stalls and the sounds of bartering fading into a distant hum. He felt the heat of the afternoon sun on his back, sticky and relentless, but all he could focus on was Marco. He had to see him. He had to say goodbye.

As he rounded the corner, the bus station came into view. The old building was bustling with people, their chatter mixing with the low rumble of the approaching bus. Joaquin’s heart raced as he pushed through the crowd, the throng of bodies and voices making each step feel heavier. An old woman carrying a woven basket brushed past him, her eyes filled with curiosity and concern. A couple laughed nearby, their joy a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside him.

His breath came in short gasps as he finally spotted Marco sitting alone on a bench, looking around with an air of nervous anticipation. The sight of his friend brought a rush of warmth to Joaquin’s chest, a flicker of hope in the midst of his turmoil.

“Marco!” he called, breathless as he approached. Marco turned, and his face lit up, a bright smile breaking through the tension in his features.

“I thought you weren’t going to see me off!” Marco exclaimed, standing up and opening his arms for a quick hug.

“I almost didn’t,” Joaquin admitted, feeling a rush of relief wash over him. “But I couldn’t let you go without saying goodbye.”

They stood there for a moment, two friends caught in a bittersweet moment of farewell. The bus loomed behind Marco, its engine rumbling softly, ready to whisk him away to a new life. The smell of diesel mingled with the scent of street food wafting from a nearby stall, reminding Joaquin of the life they had always known.

“Promise you’ll write?” Marco asked, his eyes earnest, shining with a mix of excitement and uncertainty.

“Of course,” Joaquin said, forcing a smile that felt both real and hollow. “And you’ll come back, right?”

“Definitely! I’ll come back and tell you all about my adventures. And we’ll hang out again, just like old times.”

Joaquin nodded, but a heaviness settled in his chest as the reality of the situation sank in. This was it. They were saying goodbye. “I’m really happy for you, you know,” he said, his voice catching, betraying the tumult of emotions churning within him. “You deserve this.”

Marco looked at him, a hint of sadness clouding his eyes. “You deserve it too, Joaquin. You just have to believe it.”

The bus driver called for everyone to board, and Joaquin felt a pang in his chest, a mixture of pride and longing. He stepped back as Marco took a step toward the bus, the distance between them stretching like a chasm.

“Take care of yourself, okay?” Joaquin called out, his voice barely above a whisper, laden with unspoken fears.

“Always,” Marco replied, giving him a final wave before climbing onto the bus. Joaquin watched as the doors closed, sealing their moment together, his heart heavy with the weight of everything left unsaid.

The bus pulled away, its engine roaring to life, leaving a cloud of dust swirling in its wake. Joaquin stood rooted to the spot, the grit stinging his eyes as he watched until the bus rounded the corner and disappeared from sight. The ache in his chest deepened, a hollow pit that gnawed at him like a relentless tide. Yet, amid that pain, a flicker of resolve ignited within him, a small flame that dared to push back against the darkness.

In that moment, he realized he needed to change. When Marco returned, he wanted to be someone his friend could be proud of—someone worthy of their bond. The weight of self-doubt pressed heavily on his shoulders, but the thought of transforming himself sparked a sense of urgency. He needed to claw his way out from under the shadows that clung to him like a second skin, suffocating and relentless.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm golden glow across the landscape, the vibrant hues of orange and pink painted the horizon like a promise. Joaquin took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the cool evening air, rich with the scents of earth and blooming flowers. He turned away from the bus station, feeling a new determination brewing inside him, a strength that rose like the sun breaking through a veil of clouds.

With each step he took, the gravel crunched beneath his feet, a rhythmic sound that echoed the pulse of his newfound resolve. It was time to find his own path, to step out of the darkness and into a future he could shape for himself. No more hiding. No more fear.

It was time to start living. The words echoed in his mind, a mantra that propelled him forward into the uncertain yet hopeful expanse of the world ahead.