Endings
Does anything really ever end? as soon as something ends something else starts and the cycle keeps repeating on and on forever, erasing the meaning of both words and to think of it overwhelms me. I hate it when things end, but love keeping the memory of the things that were, that happened, that we shared, moments of real magic, of lust, of beauty and of pure joy, of just being there without talking, just existing together, and those will never be truly erased, just as the love I feel, which burns for eternity and will never be extinguished, I will always be able to find comfort in those memories and will cherish them for life. So I ask again, do things really end if the memories persist? If the feeling of having a safe place in a person, in confiding them with all my burdens and problems, opening up with my darkest secrets which no one else knows and in sharing things unique to them or just being able to show your true self, in living new experiences and forming tight bonds so quickly ...
