I wonder how it feels to accomplish something start to finish.
And I’m not just talking about something as small as a song.
Because yes, I know songs are hard to finish and not everyone can do it but I’m talking about BIG things.
Seeing something like THAT all the way through.
Because yes, I know I’m going to die someday and I’ll be able to check that off my list.
But I’m talking about being consciously aware that I have gotten to the end of something.
Like a book.
A 400 page book that took me a decade to write.
Or a story.
What will my last words be?
Will I know they were my last words or will I die off mid-sentence?
Like walking across the street holding the hand of my loved one.
Asking him, “Hey did I ever tell you about the time I-”
And then BOOM, there I am, laying smack dab on the concrete bleeding out without a chance to tell my husband the embarrassing story of how I spent sixth grade stuffing my stomach into the cubby of my desk to hide the fact that I was this chubby little kid that loved to lick her plate clean after every single meal and if someone ever dare stole one of my fruit snacks from the cabinet, ooo they had another thing coming to them.
Okay so maybe that wouldn’t be the last thing I’d want to say but at least something along the lines of I love you.
Because I do.
Because I will.
Because one day, walking down the aisle will be the closing date of 2 a.m loneliness.
The start of peaceful dreaming.
And the beginning to the rest of my life.
Sometimes I just want to race to the finish line just to see how far I got to go.
How old I got to be.
How much life I got to see.
Because the idea of not knowing kills me.
Staring blankly into space wondering if I’ll ever make it to sunrise during the nights when I feel lonely.
But the truth is I haven’t felt lonely in a really long time.
And so I wonder if this is how it feels to accomplish something start to finish.
Is this the end?