Small tid'

Sort of story but mostly a reflective anecdote with a few tweaks. 

When I walked away from you my ears felt hot as the blood rushed to it, everything in the world was muted except for a slowing heartbeat that once belonged to a love that fed it flowing blood and strong vitals. I didn’t know what to do with my hands, fumbling for something in my bag seemed to be the only thing I remembered how to do. My brain took charge and sent signals to my legs, making them move one in front of the other. They listened well, they supported me. It was slow and steady, but they got me turned around and away from you. When I had the capacity to tell my brain something, it was to look back. Look back, I told my brain. It was as if looking back would suddenly change everything, it would alter the moment that erupted in the catwalk and all would be well. My head turned first and my body followed, my hands stopped fumbling and my heart stopped screaming. You were there, you had come back. You stood there with your long limbs looking like I felt. Defeated, exhausted. Alone. My brain sent the message to my legs again, and the two did their thing. They got me from A to B and suddenly I was at C, which was you. My lip quivered as my eyes threatened salt, and I inhaled ever so slightly ever so much ever so only as much as I could do. I don’t know how to say goodbye, you whispered to me. My veins surged and sent signals to my brain telling it to transmit a message from my mouth to scream up to the sky to you to everyone around GOODBYE ONLY COUNTS FOR GOODBYE but I couldn’t because you were gone already. But instead my brain doth protested and me too the words to follow. My brain knew the answer before my heart. I wasn’t saying goodbye to you, you were saying goodbye to me.