Don't say Goodbye, I hate Goodbyes.
She never told him why. It wasn't something she ever wanted to, and it wasn't something she needed to. He might not have even been her soulmate. And if she did tell him, it would be almost certain that he wouldn't.
She had two words that shimmered on her wrist, written in an ink only visible to the bearer. It was probably better that way. If people knew each-others words they would never say them. They might live forever then. Allison had decided that would probably be a bad thing. There was a reason Immortality wasn't part of the human condition.
Goodbye, Allison.
Two words. God how she hated them. They were so innocuous. So innocent. Anybody could say them to her. Her best friend, her lover, anyone. Not all soulmates were romantic they said. Some were platonic, some were even enemies, spitting vitriolic words at each other across the battle field of life. Theologists said that 'soulmates' wasn't the right word. That 'souls that weren't meant to be apart' would be better.
There were stories. Stories of people who lost their soulmates. Stories of the pain it caused. A tangible physical ache that nothing could heal. An ache that had driven people to madness, trying desperately to recreate what had been lost. Something that you hadn't known you had had until it was gone.
Goodbye, Allison.
How many people had said that to her? How many times had she prayed that they would come back safely? How many nights sleep had she lost, fearing the ache?
Goodbye, Allison.
She hung up the phone feeling the dread settle in her chest. They had gotten through on a secure channel, both of them pulling rank until they let her call him at the facility. They had only spoken for a few minutes. Carrie was doing well apparently, she won her third grade spelling bee, and she was starting martial arts. Leonard said that their daughter just wanted to be strong like Momma. That made her smile. She had shore leave coming up in a month. She would see Carrie then. And Leonard was in a secure facility. He would be safe.
Goodbye, Allison.
Staring at the knife protruding from her chest, Allison realised that she had been worried about the wrong person. She wasn't the one who would be left alone, in pain, and facing the threat of madness. She wasn't the one who would have to put on a brave face for their daughter. She wasn't the one who would stare at their wrist for the rest of their life, remembering the last time they heard those words. She was the one who would die, not him
Don't say Goodbye, I hate Goodbyes.
The words haunted him. Plagued him. They stood out on his wrist stark black against the scar tissue where he had tried to claw them off. He understood it now. He understood every word she had said. Every request that he not say goodbye. They had always been soulmates. The ache was unbearable. He would do anything, anything to hear her say those words again. With her own mouth, not through some recording.
He would even sacrifice his humanity.