AN: This is "Goodbye". I wanted to add another monologue and it's in the next chapter. I did fix the spelling of "dying" (Thanks Captain Evermind) and change "toast" to "eulogy"... Other than that, nothings changed.

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You're asking me why I didn't say goodbye. No doubt in your mind you're going over the different possibilities… "Didn't want to admit that we'd never meet again", "No time" and my personal favorite, "Asshole".

All of those reasons are shit, you know.

Why, then? Why didn't I? Well, think about our reunion. Every two years it's the same. Radar's still innocent and naive, you wear your Hawaiian shirt, Charles is pompous, Frank flirts with Hot Lips, Margaret punches him, Klinger wears a dress, Father Mulcahy says "jocularity" much more than necessary, BJ still has his mustache and Sherman uses… Well, used, the strangest sayings I've ever heard.

And me? Well, I never say goodbye.

Don't try to argue with me. You know it's true.

That still doesn't answer your question? Well remember Sherman's funeral? Do you remember how it ruined everything?

Shut up. It's rhetorical, stupid.

It did ruin everything. We were caught by surprise. No warning. Don't you remember? Radar came with his wife and kid. Not the little kid we used to know. Charles was humble. I don't think I need to point out the problem with that. Frank didn't give Margaret a glance… He was too busy holding hands with his wife. Klinger was wearing pants. Father Mulcahy was sad. Depressed, even. I didn't hear any cries of "jocularity". BJ didn't have time to grow his mustache. You and Margaret were so obviously in love. Everyone could tell from your fingers which had turned goldand the little baby she was carrying.

And me? Well, I said goodbye.

It was proof, don't you understand? Proof that we all had changed after the war. And proof that we didn't want our fellow veterans to know. Proof that Radar still wanted to be the kid, Charles still wanted to be the snob, Frank still wanted to be the comedic relief, Klinger still wanted to be the cross dresser, Father Mulcahy still wanted to have faith, Margaret still wanted to be the by-the-book-slut, BJ still wanted to be the side kick and you still wanted to be the hero.

And me? Well, I still wanted to be the inconsiderate jerk who never said goodbye.

You have to understand… We didn't want to be it for ourselves… We all knew that the others needed to believe that we all were the same.

Only Sherman ruined it by dying.

The next reunion, we still pretended to be the same. We pretended that we never saw what rotten liars the others were. But it didn't work as well. Sure, we pretended it did, but it didn't.

It still doesn't.

Does that tell you why I never said goodbye?

No?

Well it's the same concept.

I was acting. Acting just like we're acting now, at the reunion. You see, I didn't want to go home. I didn't want to go back to a wife who despised me and children who she had told that I was the reason for all of their troubles.

You can't have a pony, Becky, because your father's a cheating scumbag.

I wanted to stay in Korea. Where I was helping people. Where I had a family.

How could you understand? Trapper? Not want to go home? I couldn't break character! I couldn't!

It's not as if I could lie. Everyone in camp already knew because Radar told them.

Does that answer your question?

I didn't think so.

You see, saying goodbye would make it so I had to admit I was leaving. I wasn't ready for that. I just couldn't. I didn't want to leave. Saying goodbye would force me out of denial.

I wasn't ready to face facts.

By the time I was, I was sitting in Boston hearing my wife complain about something irrelevant.

But writing you then would break character, too. It would make me admit to a mistake. Trapper doesn't admit to mistakes.

I can't even say goodbye now.

The way the story goes, the way it's supposed to go, I don't say goodbye until one of us is on our deathbed. At the funeral, if I die, you make some heart wrenching eulogy about how I finally said goodbye. If you die, my eulogy is about how I finally made my peace.

Don't you understand? That's how it's supposed to end. Not now. Not at some reunion that no one will ever remember.

Do you understand now?

Do you understand why I can't say it?

It would ruin everything.

Just like Sherman dying did.

I have to leave now. Tuck in my kids, who have been poisoned against me. Have sex with my wife, who's plotting my downfall. Fall into restless sleep. Wake up from nightmares. Sneak out. Find some floozy in a bar. Go to a cheap motel. Sneak back in. Pretend that my family didn't hear me.

They will have, but they won't say anything.

That would break character.

Ruin everything.

Mess up the story.

Just like saying goodbye.

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AN: I actually was planning to do this one as an anniversary for the beginning of the war, but I couldn't get my ideas across the way I wanted to. I think I was a bit OOC and made Trapper sound like Frank, but this whole story is supposed to be. I couldn't resist the HM. And I apologize for killing of Colonel Potter. I'm sorry if the style was a bit off, but it was my first time writing a monologue. It's a lot harder than it seems.

Please review! Even flamers can! I'm not picky!