Opinions: The little things: Expiration dates

Some people have expiration dates.


Hannah Mellor

At the end of 8th grade, my best friends and I walk across the road hand-in-hand stepping into the next chapter of our lives.

You probably have noticed my obsession with the show “How I met your mother” since I keep referencing it in my columns. Last month was the third anniversary of the show’s finale.

“How I met your mother” is about Ted, a father, who–through a series of flashbacks–recounts the journey to meeting his wife for his kids.

I started watching the show in sixth grade and fell in love from the pilot. Four years later, I have re-watched all nine seasons four times.

The show has taught me many life lessons that I use every day: when I’m fighting with my mom about doing the dishes or struggling to stay awake in history class.

One of the show’s most valuable lesson: Some people have expiration dates.

Friendships come and go, I have to know when it’s time to let them go.

In season nine, the group debates on whether a former friend, Gary Blauman, should attend Barney and Robin’s wedding. The constant arguing causes Gary to leave. They come to realize they may never see Gary again.

It’s weird to think about all the people that have unexpectedly come into my life only to stay for a short period of time and then walk out completely just as quickly as they walked in.

People in my life aren’t meant to be here forever; some are just passing through. I grew so close to my seventh grade math partner. We talked about anything and everything, only to find ourselves not even saying hi to each other in the hallway a year later.

I have chosen to not look at the goodbyes as a negative thing but as a turning point.

People change and grow with time, so I must make the most of the time I have with friends. Whether it be going out to dinner and driving around or eating mint ice cream while listening to Hannah Montana and 2010 Taylor Swift songs.

When I reached a point in my life where I had to say goodbye to someone who at one point meant the world to me, I found myself saying goodbye to the happy things.

But it’s not like that. It’s the opposite.

I’m saying good-bye to all the negative things.

I’m saying good-bye to all the times I felt lost. I would sit in my room staring at a picture of the elementary-school me wondering why I wasn’t that same little girl anymore.

I’m saying good-bye to all the times I heard “no” instead of a “yes.” When the guy I liked told me he didn’t feel the same way I found my way to my boyfriend.

I’m saying good-bye to all the heartache–when I would wake up in the middle night with chest pains because I missed my ex-best friend I no longer spoke to. I missed her presence.

I missed her voice.

I missed the way we would talk all night long and never run out of things to say. Now it was hard to keep a conversation going for five minutes.

I’m saying goodbye to all the things I really want to do for the last time.

I’m not going to have one final dance party with my soon-to-be ex-bestfriend.

I’m going to have the first dance party, welcoming our future and how far we’ve come.

As sad and frustrating as all those times were, I’m thankful I had to say goodbye to all the people I couldn’t let go of.

So when I am standing at the altar with my new husband and I turn to walk back down the aisle, I want to be the sort of person who says, “hello” to my new life. Rather than looking back with regret, I want to look ahead with hope.

I think I have found the good in goodbye.