Loud, booming music. Gleeful cheers and toasts to the youth we'll never lose.
Let the good times roll.
Holding up your friends that are stumbling out of bars, clubs, and parties.
Keeping a bright visage about yourself. Be happy. Be relieved. Be free.
Make sure everyone gets home safely. You always have your wits about you.
Responsible to a fault.
But even you get to enjoy the simple things once the important things are done.
Driving with the windows rolled down, the cool nighttime wind whipping your hair around.
Smile and sing to the good life. Let the twinkling stars get blocked by the lights of the big city.
Music reflecting the carefree mood you've created for yourself.
Until the song changes.
A somber tune. Reminisce it tells you. Resisting isn't possible. Not when its lyrics are insistent that you listen.
You acquiesced.
So the Memories, old and new, flood to the surface of your mind. No longer the young of now. Now you're the old of before.
The Book of your Life opens. It skips and flips through until it settles on what it wants to read.
You don't want to read any of it. It's dirty and messy. And sad.
Missing people that only exist in the pages of previous chapters. It wasn't always like that.
They used to be important characters, players that would be weaved into every single chapter.
In a way, they still were.
People that seemed like they had to the potential to be more.
I wish we were closer but I guess that's not going to happen now.
Next Chapter.
Lovers that break your heart.
It's not you. It's not even me. It's her. It's always going to be her.
Did you really think something was going to happen between us?
Nobody is ever going to love you. Sooner you realize that, the better off you'll be.
Next Chapter.
Friends that seemed they'd last all the way to the epilogue.
I am sorry you feel that way. Not being there took all of our time away. I'm sorry I didn't try to reach out more. I didn't realize the thing was an issue until last week, but that super isn't an excuse.
I wish you told me you felt this way as well-
End the story. Close the book. Now.
Before you get sucked into the words.
Too late.
Everything gets analyzed with a critical eye.
Too harsh here?
Here's the thing. That was a contributing factor but this has been a long time coming. I've said I don't like feeling like I'm not wanted because I'm quick to leave a situation like that. And that's how you made me feel. And this isn't the first time. You've all but pretty much stopped talking to me. And that's cool. Totally fine. I'm not sweating it.
Too gentle there?
Well first off, never got that intention so that's that. And even if that was the intention it's not what I wanted so that could've gotten nipped in the bud real quick.
Not enough everywhere. Too much everywhere.
Could you be more like her?
Could you be less demanding?
Could you be him?
Could you do more?
Could you do less?
Couldyoucouldyoucouldyou-
Who's the main character? Certainly not you. It couldn't be you. This wasn't the story you told yourself.
Was it? Your Story wasn't like this. It was happy.
A tale of great achievements. Of crowning moments that moved even the coldest hearts.
Not this. Not a mess of broken messages and miscommunicated ideas of what it meant to love.
To be loved.
So why was this the main theme? Why were these the points that were remembered?
Was it too late to rewrite the words? Maybe just maybe it was possible. But what would the new conclusion be? Better than the original?
Or would it be a retread of what's already been done? A mess to the same ending with the repeating of the same contrite hits?
No. It wouldn't change.
This ending was bittersweet but necessary.
Goodbyes and farewells. Don't look back. Tears fall on paper and they'll be a part of the words forever. They have to be. But so will the warmth of genuine smiles. Of carefree laughter.
They formed the short stories that ended much sooner than expected.
And that was alright. That's how the story has to be written. And it'll continue to be written like that.
Close the book. But don't forget the lessons it holds.
Suppose this is what moving on to the next volume of life feels like.
Then press click and play the next song.
End.
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