I was chatting with a friend the other day (and by chatting, of course, I mean texting) about plans for the holidays. “I can’t wait for this year to end,” he harrumphs, which gets me thinking; first specifically about this year, then endings, and since you can’t end something that hasn’t begun, about beginnings as well.
Endings are personal, as inelegant and avoidable as a bad drunk on a bender. Beginnings, on the other hand, are full of promise. The start of a new day, job, relationship, all hold potential for pleasures and adventures to follow. So, why are people always in a hurry for things to end... for closure? I mean, final is really quite final and in most cases, irreversible — like a particularly bad haircut that takes forever to grow out. Ever hung around at a party till it’s done with? In case you haven’t, let me tell you it ain’t pretty! It’s like waking up in a black hole, except it smells of desperation, Doritos and rock bottom. This, dear reader are what endings feel like, and why I would like to delay them indefinitely.
As far as years go, 2014 has been quite special for me. For one, it’s an even number, I like even numbers, everything is accounted for (pun not intended) and paired up nicely. I digress... Where were we? Yes, 2014!
In terms of significance, there’s been a blitzkrieg of watershed moments. I turned 40, my youngest leaves for boarding school making me an empty nester, which translates into me being blissfully responsibility-free for a good 3/4ths of the year, and I got a job, writing this column. To sum it up, this is the year I found my voice. I’ve never had a deficit of opinions, and was brought up to express them, perhaps a little too vehemently, but there is something about writing them down that forced me to really listen to myself for a change. And here I am!
Thank you 2014, I don’t want you to end, I want you to stick around for a drink or two, loosen your tie, dial it back, have a peek outside decide the weather conditions are not favourable for any kind of departure and delay a little longer, fancy a Dorito? But like that book you read sparingly, prolonging its end (guilty secret: mine was The Twilight Saga), Breaking Bad, the zeros on your paycheck, youth and life itself everything ends, even bad weather. The trick is to multiply your moments, and in doing so, ensure you have a perfectly paired, even number of fresh starts and new beginnings, for every odd-numbered ending.
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