There’s so many things to feel right now, so many crossroads to consider that every waking moment almost feels exhausting. Not that life doesn’t already often feel exhausting… just in a different way. Things are exhausting now because you have to choose what you want to endure. And making that sort of commitment to anything is generally exhausting.
I can’t believe how much I am going to miss everyone.
And not just in your typical, “oh I can’t believe you’re leaving” kind of way. Full-blown, grief-stricken missing. Because I know, deep down, that friendships don’t last. That people will commit to you now, but not forever. Only for a blink.
It kind of brings back almost traumatic memories of childhood friends. Of those kinds of people you promise your lives to, and then low-and-behold they didn’t really mean what they were saying. People you send emails, texts, to for years after you’ve been separated, only to find them responding distantly, or not at all.
People you hold grudges against for years because they refused to prolong your relationship, to make it last. People that didn’t keep their promises, not because they’d forgotten about you or anything. Simply because they’d never meant to.
This type of moving on, of evolving, is supposed to feel like a new beginningㅡ a way to restart. But it just feels like the end of everything. The end of friendships, old and new. The end of traditions. The end of relationships, maybe, or at least the possibility of such a circumstance. The end of certain opportunities; doors that shut when I made my choice, and doors that shut simply because I closed them. The end of lives, for some people. The end of juvenescence, of blissful ignorance, of a certain type of exhausted-ness that only exists when you’re forced into the thing you’re so exhausted by.
And the start of a sort of willing, back-burning, chosen exhaustionㅡ and this one will last way longer, sweetie.