As mentioned in my previous post: Life has been weird.
A huge chapter in my life came to a close recently and it has been a weird one to deal with: It was one of those chapters I really did not think was going to end at all, except for when I someday died. But it did.
It is strange, you know, when something ends. Tonight, as I was out for a walk enjoying the incredibly gorgeous full moon and the sounds of bats, I could not help but think of something my old Danish teacher always said: That you can’t fully understand a story until you have finished reading the final sentence. Reflection on something in its entirety can only really happen after something is over.
And while I was in the chapter, I enjoyed reading every word of it. I didn’t want to put the book down, I wanted to carry it with me and never let go – But I have stopped reading the chapter. I’ve put the book down. And I’m not entirely sure it was as great of a chapter as I thought it was while I was in it – Sure, it was a good chapter, a lot of character development and adventures but… It wasn’t great. It was not the life changing point-of-no-return chapter, wherein the hero of the story finds their path to solving whatever it is the plot needs for them to solve.
The end of a chapter of a story, the end of a book, can be devastating. It can be hard to let go and not cling to every word you’ve read. But after a while of going through the mourning, period you realise….
There are more books out there waiting for you, on cramped bookshelves, to be read.
– Until next time dear readers.