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There is something special about endings.

Something special but also disastrous,

Something pleasing but also distressing,

Something ecstatic but also sad,

They leave you with more questions than answers, leave you wondering what would have happened if things turned out differently, if the timing was different…

You want to cling on to them,

You want to taste them, breathe them in, live them, wear them like skin,

You want to hold them, dear so that you can always feel the overwhelming emotions that came with them,

You want to remember the warmth and the cold it carried, the beauty and the ugliness, the fear and the pleasure, the thrill and the adventure,

You want to immerse yourself in them, sometimes, so that you can get fulfillment, so that you can change the narrative and dictate how it ends, because it’s hard to let endings rest in peace,

But there are things you can never re write, because you aren’t the author,

Things you can never possess, because you were never meant to,

Things you can never control, because they are more powerful than us,

Things you learn to love from a distance, because when you have them, the beauty in them fades, they only bloom when they are loved from afar,

Things you never lose, because you never had them in the first place,

Sometimes you think the memories will always be imprinted in your heart, but at times they get blurry and the images fade from your soul, piece by piece.

And in the end you are left with a blank page, waiting to be filled by another story,

Because in endings, lies beginnings, though from time to time they are weaved into one,

And at times we carry with us the wrong lesson.

This piece first appeared in Pauline Kathethya’s blog. Follow more of her poetic prose in the link below.

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