Love is the strongest emotion in the world . . . aside from hate. But while everything ends eventually . . . love will continue on. When the singer has finished his song, the music will still go on . . . the singer is representing everything, even the human life itself. The song represents love. For even if someone were to die, the love their family held for them will still go on . . . even though they have stopped singing.

Love will go on . . . and will shine through as a guiding light for anything . . . even the darkest night. When all is hard to see, when you've lost your way, when you feel no hope there is that love . . . that light that shines beyond, to pull you to your feet, dust you off, give you hope, and light your path.

The endings always come too fast . . . and oddly, they pass too slowly. This can be interpreted two ways in my mind. Firstly, is that when everything is born it is ending . . . and the ending passes too slowly. They say that when you are born, you start to die. So your ending drags on for many long years.

I once had a butterfly, which I had found as a larva and named Lucky. I fed it every day and watched it with complete awe at it's perfect beauty and simplicity. Of course, my child’s mind could not comprehend that it was ending before my very eyes . . . slowly. In my eyes, it was all beginning. A small larva that turned into a chrysalis that looked like a blob of Extra gum. I watched as it hatched from it's chrysalis into a beautiful butterfly. And days yet passed with Lucky, until she died. Back then, I would have said the ending was abrupt she was dead. But now I realize that her ending had started when she hatched from the egg . . . and was drawn out slowly throughout her life.

The second way one could look at this is that while the ending of a life, a relationship, or anything is at regular pace . . . it last so much longer in ones mind. It goes in slow motion, so to speak. One example would be school. I remember a class I disliked was an hour long. The first forty-five minutes of the class seemed to go by quickly. But when I realized it was ending, there was fifteen minutes left; the time seemed to lag for much longer than the fifteen minutes.

The ending came at last . . . and ending that was too fast, but passed so slow.

I wonder, why is it always the ending that passes so slowly? Does the anticipation or sorrow make you more aware of time and how slowly it truly goes, when all other times you're just unaware and oblivious to it all?

However, no matter how slow the ending goes when involving ones you love, all you know during that prolonged time is that you love them. Perhaps time draws out so that you can really feel the love, so you can accept it, so you can express it? In which case, that apathetic time that you found so heartbreaking, and learned to hate, is really magnificent.

Even with this realization, that slow endings are wonderful, why do I still fear them? Why do I still wish they weren't so slow? Perhaps I wish they didn't come too fast? I wish that before the ending came, I would have done more to make life before happier and more precious. And so . . . a lesson to be learned. Live life to its fullest, love and accept and be kind to all, because you never know when the ending will sneak up on you faster than you can blink. And you know that the ending will be so slow, slow enough for you to regret and dwell on all that you could have done, but didn't do.

L

Written on 18 October 2005 at 7:16 pm