You often reach a point where something ends. The final page in one chapter of life. I’ve found my self facing so many of these final moments, so many closures.

Once again, here I am. Another chapter done, another story finished. I’m moving forward, towards more experiences and indefinitely more ends. I find that endings are never quite the way you would hope. Never quite as spectacular as the closing scene of a movie. When the two main characters embrace with one final summation of emotion. One final moment of connection. They are much less than that, or perhaps much more. I often think, when nearing an end, that this is the final time I will do this, final moment with them, final night in this home. But I always realize, it’s not. That moment has already passed, the apex of experience has gone. You don’t get one last hurrah, simply a goodbye. A goodbye that always leaves you hoping that there was more. A longer hug, another ordinary day, one last look, one final action.

But reality is always the same. You must turn, you must refuse to look back, make no attempt to relive what has finished. Move only forward, only towards what’s next. It’s time to move on, it’s time to grow.

I suppose the reason endings seem to lack finality, the reason they seem so fleeting. Is because they are not real. They are not truly the end.

You will always have your past, but the future is always waiting.


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