This is not the end, this is not the beginning…
we’re holding onto something that’s invisible there…
Until we dead it, forget it, let it all disappear
Waiting for the end to come…
It’s out of my control
Flying at the speed of light
Thoughts were spinning in my head
So many things were left unsaid…
I know what it takes to move on…
All I want to do
Is trade this life for something new
Holding on to what I haven’t got
Sitting in an empty room
Trying to forget the past
This was never meant to last
I wish it wasn’t so…
What was left when that fire was gone
I thought it felt right but that right was wrong
All caught up in the eye of the storm
And trying to figure out what it’s like moving on…
So I’m picking up the pieces, now where to begin
The hardest part of ending is starting again
~Linkin Park, “Waiting for the End”
You might say I’m a control freak. I’m a quiet person, never the sort to run for student council or be on a leadership committee (I tried once, it didn’t work out very well), but I like being in charge. I like bearing myself with an air of confidence and a (slight) carriage of arrogance. How much of it, though, is merely a façade meant to cover my deficiencies and insecurities?
Do you know what’s worth fighting for?
When it’s not worth dying for?
Does it take your breath away and you feel yourself suffocating?
Does the pain weigh out the pride?
And you look for a place to hide?…
When you’re at the end of the road
And you lost all sense of control
And your thoughts have taken their toll
When your mind breaks the spirit of your soul
Your faith walks on broken glass and the hangover doesn’t pass
Nothing’s ever built to last
~Green Day, “21 Guns”
Everything is changing. I leave for university in less than 48 hours (Ahck! I have to pack!). So much of what I’ve built up in the past eighteen years is being pulverized to sand. Relationships, places, ethos, memories, habits. What of that which I have made has any worth, any inherent meaning?
Just because everything’s changing
Doesn’t mean it’s never been this way before
All you can do is try to know who your friends are
As you head off to the war
Pick a star on the dark horizon and follow the light…
Now we’re back to the beginning
It’s just a feeling and no one knows yet
But just because they can’t feel it too
Doesn’t mean that you have to forget
Let your memories grow stronger and stronger
‘Til they’re before your eyes
You’ll come back when they call you
No need to say goodbye
~Regina Spektor, “The Call”
Ground into sand, perhaps. But what I’ve had and who I’ve been still exist, albeit in a state of metamorphosis. Tested in the fires of the kiln of transition, some of the sands will survive, heated into white-hot liquid, one day to be cooled into burnished glass.
I’ve become who I am–confident and deficient, arrogant and insecure–not only because of the choices I’ve made, but also because of those who’ve surrounded me and the atmosphere they’ve created.
I’ve heard it said,
That people come into our lives
For a reason.
Bringing something we must learn.
And we are lead to those,
Who help us most to grow if we let them.
And we help them in return…
So much of me,
Is made of what I learned from you.
You’ll be with me,
Like a handprint on my heart.
And now whatever way our stories end,
I know you’ll have rewritten mine,
By being my friend…
Who can say if I’ve been changed for the better,
But because I knew you
I have been changed for good.
~Steven Schwartz, “For Good”
Thank you, thank you so much, to those who have touched my life in the past eighteen years, the past thirteen years, the past four years, and especially this last year. Thank you for the times you’ve laughed with me and cried with me (metaphorically, anyhow, at least on my part), struggled with me and yelled at me, listened to me and talked with me, encouraged me and advised me; prayed with me and prayed for me. Thank you for believing in me when I didn’t believe in myself; thank you for covering my back when I couldn’t do so for myself, much less for anybody else in return; thank you for correcting me when I was wrong; thank you for loving me when I was a jerk; thank you for trusting me when I wasn’t trustworthy; thank you for letting me trust you when I was too afraid to trust anybody–and for not being offended when it was obvious that I didn’t trust you, either.
For my own lack of eloquence, perhaps the words of others best describe my sentiments. I went out for coffee with a friend yesterday, and what she said encapsulates my vision of friendship: “I’m here for you. I’ll be here to be quiet when you want, or to talk at you when you want. No judgment, only love.” And, though, I know it’s hokey to quote (what is essentially) a soap opera, in Grey’s Anatomy, Meredith tells Cristina, “I know you that don’t want to talk about it. But I’m here, so I just want to stay on the phone with you until you want to hang up. I’m here. I’m here.” I, for one, rarely want to talk about whatever the current “it” is; thank you, to those of you who have been my Meredith.
This is not the end
This is not the end of this
We will open our eyes wide, wider
And you know you’ll be alright
~Gungor, “This Is Not the End”