Window Seat

Perhaps you are a hopeless romantic like me too.
Perhaps you too prefer beginnings more than endings. No wrong comparison. Endings are usually never liked.
What I mean is, maybe you too prefer beginnings more than the journey. The happily ever afters.
Cause there are no happy ever after. After all, there is only a beginning and an end.
No matter what. There are three types of ending to every story, you see.
Some that are abrupt, sudden, shocking and painful. They come as a kick and leave a long wound.
Some are slower. You could almost see it from a distance as they slowly approach the shore. Maybe your friends try to show them to you, maybe you sometimes see it yourself when your shades aren’t on. But these come like an afternoon nap. You obviously predict their arrival and heal over time realizing they happened for the better.

But the third one, these are not pitied enough. Rarely are they showcased in arts. The slowest kind, one that comes free with the happy ever afters. After the first times die out their charm, after you have known a person too closely to overlook the fault lines, after the chemistry reaction fizzles gradually. These come right from the start, but no one wants to believe they exist. They don’t leave you bawling your eyes out at midnight, they don’t leave you stone cold.
Because they never leave you. They come when you make the promise of staying for a lifetime, and they make you dream of beginnings you could never have.

I hope you are a hopeless romantic like me too, one who chooses friction more than peace. I hope I am not alone.