Love + End

The sky is crisp, so flat the sun radiates despite the breath of every passerby being visible and naked. I think this morning of all the love I have for Kat. The force of that feeling, that emotion. Kat has never thrown a glass as me, like in the turning point of a movie but I imagine our love in that moment. Not the fury needed to throw a glass, or the unthought of repercussions of having an odd number of dinner wares. Our love is the breaking against the wall, the shocking smash sound as glass scatters. We are ever startling, emotions bared. Our love interrupts life. Everything can halt, the rotation of the star above, when I tell her how I feel.

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I look forward to the ends. Some people dread them, so sad it is all over, boo hoo boo hoo. I love a bookend! The end is the only moment everything gains perspective. You get a moment to pause and reflect, to analyze you suspicions and bias. This is all to get around to saying that I have a hard time watching new TV shows. Their constant cliff hanger click to the next episode so we can cancel the show before season 2 is just too much. I hate to leave anything in life unbuttoned. To write a good ending for any piece of work is such a uniquely magical skill. I cannot recall a single scene in A Farewell to Arms but can relive the final scene in such a vivid way my throat clenches to stop tears from swelling. How many different kinds of endings. Some so quiet and some in such a fit. I imagine at my end I will be too excited to rage against the inevitable, like a child in line for a ride, holding carnival tickets, excited with nerves, knowing no fear, but ready to appreciate the experience.