Title: I Won't Say Goodbye
Category: Vignette, angst, heartbreak, grief.
Archive: Early Years & Jedi Apprentice/Padawan Journals
Disclaimer: The Star Wars Characters and events belong to
George Lucas and George Lucas alone. I have no permission
to use them, and I receive no money for doing so.
Summary: An entry from Obi-Wan's journal the day after Qui-
Gon died. There is no plot. This is a dealing-with-grief
Time frame: During TMP, about an hour before Qui-Gon's
I don't usually write stuff like this. In fact, to be
truthful, I used to carefully avoid even reading stories or shorts that
dealt with the time frame surrounding Qui-Gon's death. I
could barely stand to watch the end of the movie and just
liked to pretend that it never happened.
That was until my Grandfather died on the 14th.
It's funny how having experienced real death makes dealing with imaginary
I was right there when my Grandpa died, even if it wasn't in my arms. I'd
never seen death before, never had anyone I loved pass into
that eternal sleep.
It was beautiful in an odd way, but it was also very difficult. These two
stories, "I Won't Say Goodbye" and "How Hard Can it Be?" are my response
to those events. This piece was written two days after my Grandfather died. At points it mirrors my own journal entries, at points it is totally an Obi point of view.
Writing is a catharsis for me, a way to deal with what I'm feeling so I
apologize in advance for these rather short, choppy bits. I know this
piece seems to end unresolved, but that's because I don't have any answers
Thanks for listening to me ramble and for putting up with me.
I Won't Say Goodbye.
Data pad online.
Journal function activated
I do not usually find the time to record my thought or
feelings in this manor. There always seem to be so much
else to do that journal keeping falls by the wayside.
Besides, I could always go to my Maser if I had something
on my heart that needed to be expressed, but now...
Oh Master! Do you know how much I miss you? It has barley
been two days since you died and yet it already feels an
age that I have been without you. And yet, at the same
time, it does not seem quite real. I still feel as if at
any moment I will look up and see you walk in the door,
your tall frame blocking the view of the hall in the way I
There are so many small things I remember about you now
that I took for granted before; yet it is these things that
I miss the most. The little motions you would make during
negotiations that let me know what you were really thinking
or feeling about the situation, the small turns of phrase
that you always used, the way you were always telling me to
focus on the moment... you don't know how much I would give
to hear you give me one of those lectures now, although I
always hated them when you were alive. Maybe you really
never do appreciate what you have until it is gone. Or at
least, maybe it just becomes suddenly more important.
For thirteen years Qui-Gon Jinn has been like a father to
me, and now he is gone. Yes, I know he is one with the
Force and will never truly leave me, and I will see him
again one day, but... It's not the same.
I did not expect him to live forever, but I don't think you
can ever be ready for death, not even when you stare it in
the face everyday as Qui-Gon and I did.
I feel as if I am living in a semi-void, as if when Qui-Gon
died he took with him all the light in my life.
I front of everyone else, I must be strong, I must be the
dutiful Jedi who shows no emotion that they all expect.
They need me to be strong; Anakin needs me to be strong.
Good grief that child didn't need any more grief right now.
Here however, alone in the privacy of this room in the
Theed Palace that Queen Amidala has given me until it is
time to leave, I can grieve. I can cry.
Jedi cry? Oh yes, we cry; I cry.
I may be a Jedi, but I am also a human being with a heart,
a fact that is too often lost or forgotten under the title
I cry and cry until my eyes hurt and my throat aches, I cry
every time I think of him, but I don't care! I want to
remember! I want to remember every little thing about him
until it is indelibly etched into my mind! And, as strange
as it sounds, I want to cry.
I want to cry and cry and never stop because at least in
crying there is relief, there is an outlet for all the
grief in my heart, all the pain that threatens to strangle
me. It is when the tears cease that I dread, because when
they end the emptiness becomes unbearable. When the tears
dry up they are replaced by a dead, empty, depressed
feeling that gnaws my insides like a vrelk.
I do not weep for Qui-Gon, because I know that if he went,
then it was his time and it was the will of the Force. He
is in a better place and I know I will see him again. Why
then do I feel so sad? I don't know.
Perhaps because I don't know how I will live never seeing
his beloved face again, never hearing his rare, but warm
laugh or the way he would call me Padawan...
Oh Force! My heart is a bleeding wound and I don't know
how to bandage it. No matter how calm I appear on the
outside, inside I am a wreck.
I look out upon this city's many beauties, both natural and
man-made, but I don't see them. All I see, again and again
is the scene in the generator room, playing itself over and
over before my eyes and making everything else seem a cold,
distant, unreal shadow.
He died in my arms! In my arms for Force's sake! Yet I am
glad it happened so, at least I was there. At least he
didn't have to die alone, or with strangers who cared
nothing for him.
I never imagined it could be so hard to say goodbye.
Can it be that after all my training, I am still not ready for
so simple a thing?
Or perhaps it is because goodbye is the wrong word.
Goodbye is much, much too hard, so I won't say goodbye.
Instead I'll say: see you later. But oh how I'll miss you until then.
Night is falling now, the Council is deliberating on
whether or not they will allow Anakin to be my Padawan
learner and on whether or not I will be allowed to obtain
the title of Knight. Of this last, I am not concerned. It
is far too late in my apprenticeship to pair me with a new
Master and I do not believe that they will simply drop me
because I no longer have a teacher. Qui-Gon thought I was
ready, now I guess I'll have to be.
After their decision, we will have the funeral.
I take Anakin at Qui-Gon's request, perhaps against my
better judgement, but I do it also because in Ani I see a
little boy who wants only to be a Jedi win every fiber of
his being. This I understand very well.
Can I deny him his dream? Can I make him feel as unwanted
as I felt as a child? I fear I already have.
I know the child is grieving, but so am I and I have little
comfort to give him though I will try.
I thought this would start getting at least a little better
soon. After all, the first day should be the worst and
then it should start to get easier, shouldn't' it?
Apparently not. In fact, it's just getting worse.
I feel as if I am searching for something, but for what I
do not know.
It's not peace, no, I have peace about this already, so it
must be something else.
I have no one to talk to about how I feel, Qui-Gon is gone
and I fear that the strain of this Anakin situation has
made it difficult if not impossible for me to talk to the
only other person who might have understood. I wish I
could have Yoda's council on this, and yet, wisdom is not
really what I want right now, not what I need.
What I need no one can give me.
I don't even know what it is.
I feel so lost, so alone.
I'm looking for something, but I know not what.
Perhaps tonight after the funeral I will take a walk alone
in the palace gardens.
I want to see the stars.