Every story has an ending. The part where everything comes together, the moral becomes apparent, the characters are ready to move on, and the crisis has been averted. We look forward to the ending, to that sense of completion, satisfaction; to knowing that from here on in, it’s a different story and we have achieved something by getting this far.
But what happens when your ending won’t end?
It’s been around three years now and I love him more every day. Back at the beginning things were faster and crazier. We were always running, always cramming life into the time we had together. Back then, everything was about beginnings. We’d find new cafes to drink coffee at, new theatres to watch plays at, new clothing to dress up in, new houses to live in, new ways to look at each other, new topics to discuss at length… Life was just one big beginning.
But all beginnings must come to an end.
We settled into a different home, bringing with us all the furniture that had once been new. We found new cafés, just like before. We found theatres and restaurants, again. We’d dress up in new clothes, like every other time. The beginnings had gone on for so long that they had become the middle.
The middle had its perks. We could finish each others’ sentences. We could rely on each other being home at a certain time. We could surprise each other for birthdays and Christmases. We could plan for the future and know that we were on the same page. Being in the middle was comfortable. Life was just one big middle.
But all middles must come to and end.
We knew each other so well that we didn’t need to speak any more. We ate at the same places every week. We wore the same clothes every day. We were so confident in our routine that neither of us would dare break it. We were so in love that we would sacrifice anything for each other. Anything new, anything middle, became everything to avoid.
And then the middle became the end.
The end has its perks. We don’t expect anything from one another any more. We don’t get upset when we realise life is boring or dull. We are living our dreamed plan for the future. The end has its perks. I don’t have to buy new clothes any more. I don’t have to organise trips to the theatre or the beach. I don’t have to tell him where I’ve been all night. The end has its perks. We know each other so well that there is nothing left to explore. We love each other so deeply that there is no more passion to draw out. We love each other so fully that there is no life left outside the two of us.
And so it keeps on ending, without ending.
A reflection of some sort.