Isn’t that just weird?
How some people worry so much about their future and lives, that it stops them from doing things in the present? Like it is not worth doing, because it might end. Well, I mean, it will inevitably end one day, just like everything else, but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth doing, right? To me, it sounds like saying life isn’t worth living, because we will all face the same faith, and reach life’s point of no further expansion (in other words: all men must die).
(Yes, I had to put in a GOT reference somewhere)
It seems like some people think you shouldn’t be in a relationship without the intention of growing old and dying together with this person. What is wrong with leaving the party when it’s at its peak? What is wrong with simply wanting to enjoy the journey, without having a goal in mind? To me it feels like this is what the true definition of living is. Living your life does not necessarily mean to reach your goal, to achieve something you might look upon as something greater, but rather finding joy in every moment that takes you to it.
Even though I’m not trying to think about the ending, about the ultimate and inevitable last happening, I am certain I will leave the party while everyone’s on the dance floor, completely and mindlessly drunk and singing to songs they don’t need to know the lyrics to. And while everyone raises their glasses and new stories are just about to be written, I will open the door, look back at you, and leave. Leave with no regrets, and no fear that nostalgia will come creeping up on me and make me feel like I missed out because of my actions
– was what I thought it would be like.
I should have looked back, and without even hesitating run to you. I should have stayed as long as possible, even if it meant I had to witness people puking all over the floor. Maybe someone would even start to fight because of an argument that gained greater meaningfulness through the alcohol, leaving them nothing but dizzy and hurt.
You see, the problem with this is that this would have been the outcome anyway; everyone would wake up feeling hungover, regretting some of their choices.
However, what I didn’t realize until it was too late, was that I wanted to experience all the pain, knowing that I had sucked out every single drop out of the happiness juice carton. The good memories would still have been worth it. They still are. Leaving the party too early may sometimes prevent me from experiencing the ending, but it also prevents me from receiving as much happiness as possible. It’s almost hilarious how I thought it would give you more freedom to do whatever you want while I’m gone, unaware of the fact that it would make us both feel like we missed out.
What I finally understood is that leaving the party too early isn’t about just enjoying the good moments, but rather about helping me to accept it when I didn’t stay longer and missed out. Now all I’m left with is regret about the ending, but also good memories and thankfulness that you hosted the party. If I can help you somehow, like cleaning up or gluing together broken items, then I’d be more than happy to help.
Apart from all that: thank you.
Oh, and sorry for the broken vase.
Hi guys!
I know this is a little more personal and deeper than what I would usually share with you, but I have been thinking about writing a little series about people I have met in my life, how they have influenced me and maybe even about some of their thoughts and ideas they were kind enough to share with me.
I figured it would be a good way to improve my creative writing, so here's to a new challenge and fresh start!
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