All that summer, we traveled the world.
Even when there’s no future to see, it can be so hard to let go of the past.
Or maybe especially when there’s no future to see. I guess that’s what it is. Like when someone dies, and suddenly your past with them is all you have. That’s when that past becomes so important, and so difficult to let go of. When you’ve got an entire future full of good times to look forward to, you’re not thinking about that past at all; you’re taking it for granted. It’s a past full of shtuff, with a future of even more shtuff to look forward to and focus on.
But when the possibility of that future suddenly evaporates, the past not only becomes important to cling to, but also plays a key role in sadness about the future. For if that past never existed, well then, there wouldn’t be anything to be sad about now would there? And what does the past do, if not slowly evaporate. It's just the only time we try to keep it from doing so is when the future already has.
A and I have had so many good times over the years, and it’s heartbreaking to think that that is going to come to an end. It's like mourning the loss of a loved one. Which I guess it is. I know that's a pretty unoriginal thought, but this is the first time I’ve experienced it.
Endings aren’t easy, despite the new beginnings that follow. And I do love new beginnings. But sometimes it's hard not to dwell on what's coming to an end. So many summers full of so many travels, so many years full of so many new-at-the-time experiences. And yes, I know that’ll be the case for the future as well: more travels, more experiences, more discoveries. We’ll just be making them separately. It’s unbelievable to think about. And yet, as I’ve said to myself so many times in the past month, I know that it’s the right decision, and that there really is no other way.
Vive la rationalité.
Or maybe especially when there’s no future to see. I guess that’s what it is. Like when someone dies, and suddenly your past with them is all you have. That’s when that past becomes so important, and so difficult to let go of. When you’ve got an entire future full of good times to look forward to, you’re not thinking about that past at all; you’re taking it for granted. It’s a past full of shtuff, with a future of even more shtuff to look forward to and focus on.
But when the possibility of that future suddenly evaporates, the past not only becomes important to cling to, but also plays a key role in sadness about the future. For if that past never existed, well then, there wouldn’t be anything to be sad about now would there? And what does the past do, if not slowly evaporate. It's just the only time we try to keep it from doing so is when the future already has.
A and I have had so many good times over the years, and it’s heartbreaking to think that that is going to come to an end. It's like mourning the loss of a loved one. Which I guess it is. I know that's a pretty unoriginal thought, but this is the first time I’ve experienced it.
Endings aren’t easy, despite the new beginnings that follow. And I do love new beginnings. But sometimes it's hard not to dwell on what's coming to an end. So many summers full of so many travels, so many years full of so many new-at-the-time experiences. And yes, I know that’ll be the case for the future as well: more travels, more experiences, more discoveries. We’ll just be making them separately. It’s unbelievable to think about. And yet, as I’ve said to myself so many times in the past month, I know that it’s the right decision, and that there really is no other way.
Vive la rationalité.
posted by P/O at 1/28/2005 10:03:00 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home