Suddenly

I recently stumbled upon an article written by a publisher about what to take out of your writing. It seems that this publisher is not a fan of several different phrases that I had thought to be common, and therefore, occasionally comfortable to see. One such phrase/wording Mr. Publisher shunned was "Suddenly." Or maybe it was "all of the sudden..." which would make more sense because how could something be partially of the sudden, but whatever. First seeing this, there was nothing but disappointment, because of my appreciation for the children's book. How could you not love it? That piggie in his little train conductor's outfit is adorable (not to mention how skilled he is at averting death...) I feel like I may have once read a French translation of it, because my increasingly disappearing French vocabulary still contains suddenly=soudain, if I'm not mistaken.

Anyway, once I got over this percieved betrayal and got to thinking about the explanation, I can't stop thinking about it. Mr. Publisher says that "suddenly" is redundant, because of course it happened suddenly, everything that happens is sudden. One minute it's this, then the very next minute, it's changed to that! I've decided that this is accurate, especially concerning people. Observable changes always feel sudden to me, even if I could see them coming. Like, let's say my sister was a werewolf and the day before the full moon, her arms get all super-hairy and her back distorts all gangly and hunched and her teeth are just getting longer and longer. And she would have claws coming out of her toes. We can't forget the claws. Even though you know she's becoming this werewolf/more sarcastic/more responsible/whatever transition is supposedly "gradual", all things are quantified and classified. She's a minor. She's an adult. She's a student. She's a nurse. She's a human. She's a werewolf. Whenever that classification happens to change, even if it's been developing for years, if it's significant enough to even note in the first place, the officiality of it all is magnificent. It's a weight, a big symbolic weight thrown on to your shoulders, this classification, I mean. And that's the trouble with goodbyes.

One moment they're there. Then they are just gone. I'm getting to the point where I want to make as small of a deal about all goodbyes as humanly possible. I don't want to have to ease out of it, because a little-bit-there is there and a little-bit-gone is just as annoying as being gone. It's just awkward, and I don't need ANY help in that department. Not that there aren't more awkward people around, it's just that I'm the one I have to deal with 24/7. Having to stop any conversation, whether I was going to the bathroom or going to sleep or leaving the country is just ridiculous. I want to just reduce all goodbyes to a spectrum of "hold that thought" to a hug and a "I'll text you later." Anything out of that spectrum is too hard. I don't want to watch people walk away, or worry that I should look over my shoulder while I'm leaving so that it doesn't seem like I don't care. I do care, which is the problem. Do other people care about that, though?