All that I have ever known has been forever. My elementary school had always been my sisters elementary school and will always be mine. We always shop at Stater Brothers and Oreos will always be stalked ten boxes high in our pantry. That goes to prove that all good things do not come to an end but are easily expected to last forever. My parents will never move, Mark Twain will never be out of style and my name will always be beautiful. But this expectation has often proved to be a folly of mine. I deplore, I detest anything that is to end: friendships, books, meals. As you may imagine my life has been a lonely, boring, flavorless place. I lost happiness, I lost fulfilment and I lost pounds.
Around a point, the point at which I gave up on omelets, I realized that no longer was anything in my life permanent. My apartment, my roommates, my job, my hair color; all would invariably change and leave me, forever. So I changed, believing I was befitting of my surroundings. Inconsistency became my middle name and momentary happiness was all that I knew; Kiss him, eat that, spend this. Dedication to a practical non-entity seemed like a waste of my fluctuating time.
Eventually, as all senseless actions do, mine came to a strange roadblock. I wanted something to last, to last me anytime, even a short time. Why? I ask myself, why would I become attached to something that way? This something, as you may imagine, is a very special something. (and of coarse I would never cease to have fun for anything less) But the current state of my life remains, anything I encounter will not last much more than a season. (another new thing that is impermanent to me) In the beginning I deplored, I despised the idea of only being able to grasp this sort of happiness for a day, a week, a month. Forever, forever was all I would accept.
A conclusion was drawn from this! One that will slap me in the face each time I give up on anything in its birth! The thought of forever made me unhappy.
So what is the point of all this? Attachment still aches when it is broken, a favorite car, a circle of friends, the Star Wars movies; I have found that some good things do indeed come to an end. That does not challenge the fact that they are good things. A week in New York helps us see the world, but we cannot all live there! Pets die, classes end and yes friendships do break up, but those become memories to visit in the dark of December, pathways to new adventures and wounds to make the heart stronger. So why do we have things, wonderful things, that we can see the end to at the very beginning? Those are blessings reserved for a time when we are still waiting for our beginning.
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