Closing Chapters, Revolving Doors

Maybe it’s just me, but summer feels filled with endings this year. The season seems to enhance these feelings, with its warm, slow days and goodbyes as school comes to an end. It lends itself to nostalgia, and that is where I have found myself dwelling lately. I think about the people I miss. And…the people I don’t miss. Somewhere along the way they get muddled with the people that I can always count on seeing tomorrow.

I have always hated endings—even the thought of them. I’m sure I’m not alone in this, but finality scares me. It scares me even in cases that it is natural or beneficial. With wedding season, holidays, and family events in full swing, there has been a lot on my mind about the way people cycle in and out of our lives, and we cycle in and out of theirs. I could easily make a chart of friends, acquaintances, and even family members connected to the stages of my life they correspond with. The hard part is acknowledging where the carryover stops.

 
 

I take relationships seriously—perhaps too seriously. If I have had a season, or even a moment of connection with you, I remember it. But I struggle to say “That was nice. I may never see them again—we may drift apart—but that is life, and at least I have that memory”. Life is meant to have chapters, and chapters inevitably close. But that hasn’t stopped me from trying to carry every person I have cared about, kicking and screaming, from one chapter to the next.

Perhaps what I am trying to say here is that it’s hard. It is hard to feel deeply and to meet each ending with what sometimes feels like a childish sadness. It feels more hopeful to think of life as a revolving door: to think that chapters don’t close as much as they morph along with us. At the very least, this mindset provides some relief from the weight of finality.

If you are similar, I hope this resonates with or even comforts you. If you are not…well then, I would welcome your advice. In the meantime, I’ll let the revolving door keep spinning, and hope for the wisdom to hold onto those who matter most.

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The Five Ways to Say, “I’m Sorry.”

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Firsts and Lasts