Post 100: But Endings Are Inevitable

“There is a universal truth we all have to face whether we want to or not. Everything eventually ends. As much as I’ve looked forward to this day, I’ve always disliked endings. The last day of summer, the final chapter of a great book, parting ways with a close friend...

But endings are inevitable.

Leaves fall, we close the book, you say goodbye. Today is one of those days for us. Today we say goodbye to everything that was familiar, everything that was comfortable. We’re moving on. But just because we are leaving, and that hurts, there are some people who are so much a part of us, they’ll be with us no matter what. They are our solid ground, our north star, and the small clear voices in our hearts that will be with us. Always.”

- Alexis Castle, from her graduation speech in Castle S4E23

I started this blog because something ended. Something that makes me believe that everything happens for a reason. And that while we may doubt or question those reasons at that time, because nothing makes any sense just then, there are always answers that visit us later - just as surely as there is always something better that follows. All we have to do is wait with patience...

Because all endings, are also new beginnings. 

Scars and Souvenirs

She walked down that road again, the one she’d gone down so many times already, in her mind. This time, her feet complied; sure, steady steps, which in her mind had been haltering, hesitating, every single time – until the last.

A drab wooden box, unadorned and plain, lay at the end of this path. She lifted it slowly, caressed it almost lovingly, then opened it to look into her memories. A bundle of old letters, tied together by a ribbon of the softest pink looked back; a bundle of letters that had once been written by a caring hand, and delivered with an almost reverent touch.

She paused for a long moment, her prize in her hands, and untied the ribbon holding it together. The letters came loose, slipped and fell in sheets around her. She knelt down, offered a few, final glistening drops of grief as tribute to something precious, though long gone, and began collecting them, one by one.

Each letter revived a lost moment; each line in blue brought back a sentiment. But she dismissed the kaleidoscope of images that threatened to dilute her resolve and with a stubborn hand, thrust them into the hungry flame of a grey wax candle. The pale, ageing papers crackled, turned inward, singed, and then burned. And somewhere in the curling smoke that rose from it, evanesced the hopes and dreams of a younger, more innocent girl at a happier time.

The smoke briefly cast an illusive shadow of a face from the past...once intensely loved, immensely trusted, and then dissipated into nothingness.

He had not asked, not said a word before he had gone away, nor had he explained why, and she had been unable to completely give him up. This time though, she could willingly let him go. She would willingly release his memories.

And in doing so, finally, be set free.

The Resumption of Time

There will be a day
When your yearning will
No longer choke
Every waking moment,
When reminiscing will
No longer open old wounds.

There will be a day
When you will remember,
But not hurt anymore,
When you will stop mourning,
And slowly
Begin to cherish.

There will be a day
When the heartbeat that
Once stopped yours
Will be laid to rest
Forever...
Then, time itself shall resume.