I don’t like endings.
This was my first in-person year of college classes since 2018-2019, and now it is done.
I met strangers and got to know them, a little. I grew to like the people I saw every day. Some of them are leaving. It won’t be the same, after this.
I’ll still be here, for a little while yet. And also
“it’s not like you’ll never see each other again,” my sister reminds me. “You have phones. You know how to use them.”
I am reminded of the words of another acquaintance, fading into memory, who once said: “nope, after my friend leaves it will be like he never existed. I’m just really bad at object permanence.”
I’m going to look back on this year with fondness. It’s my worst trouble, getting fond, and then having to let go. It keeps happening. You’d think I’d learn to stop getting attached, but I never do.
Maybe that’s as it should be. Maybe there’s nothing wrong with being completely in love with life, just the way it is, and not wanting things to change.
There will be other times.
Oh, damn. I’m crying again.
I’ve decided to keep falling in love, over and over again, because things are going to keep changing, and the people I love are going to keep drifting away just as soon as I realize how much they matter to me. But it won’t do to stop loving just to save myself from the horrible ache of parting ways.
I have to keep falling in love, as hard as possible, because I can’t help it, and trying to hold it all back and keep it inside is like trying to hold up the sky.