This Is Officially The Ending Of Our Beginning

Sometimes the beginning of something always makes me wonder about the ending. It’s a human reaction to somehow peek through that small gap of that slightly open door in the room I’m currently in. I become curious of what’s beyond those walls but also scared of what’s next, what the future will be. Will it be pain or will it be joy? What if the room next door is a place that’ll break me? I become uncertain and I anticipate the worst sometimes. I guess we all feel like that.

When I was a little girl, I searched for approval from my parents, because I was so obsessed with wanting to be better. Of wanting to be the best child. Somehow, I grew up thinking that having more skills meant being a better individual. I was so eager to finish school, to think about University and be a doctor. But guess what? That never happened. Sure I finished school, but I definitely didn’t turn out to be a doctor. I did something I love instead of what I was told to love. 

Growing up, I’ve met a couple of people along the way. Some of them didn’t last. Some faded away, ghosted, moved somewhere else, and fell out of love. It’s just life. But sometimes, I couldn’t help but think about what could have been if I had done certain things differently. Would the ending be different? Would they still be around for, maybe, more than three summers? I wondered too much, but I had no control over it because time doesn’t stop. We all somehow just have to move on, like leaving another room to go to another, staying there for a little while until you’ve gotten used to where things are and you feel the need to move again. You breathe in that room and you make something out of it, even though the previous room left you with nothing but four empty walls. And I do have to admit that that scares me.

Until I fell in love again. And it’s with you.

You’re the new beginning of a chapter and that’s just it. You are simply my present, a very beautiful and calm present that I want to keep while I’m breathing, regardless of how harsh the world’s realities can be. Because sometimes, the beginning of something will just have to stay as it is. I want to treat my beginning as simple as my present. Every day is a beginning, every minute is the beginning of something, and every second that I think about you is the beginning of something. I still don’t know what that something is, but I know for sure that I love it. And even if I admit that I’m scared now about the uncertainties and the unknown, I want to let myself feel it. I’ve been to so many rooms and most of them I didn’t like. They felt like a trap more than another place I’d have to breathe in and somehow settle into. It felt forced because I was always too curious, peeking through those closed doors, that I forgot about what I had in every room.

But with you, it’s different. Even if the room is half empty, I know I’ll have you with me to fill it with wonderful things. Ignore the door, ignore peeking through the future; we’ll make this room a good place. We’ll look through the windows and watch the seasons go by as we go through everything one day after another at a pace we both like. And even if it’s not forever, I will remember this room with four walls with you in it; your scent, the things you love, things you hate, and the things that make you who you are. Even if it’s a difficult journey, I will continue to give love because you always make me feel like I can. Even if these four walls crumble, I’ll patch it up and re-paint it, because you always make me feel like I’m stronger than what I’m meant to be. 

And when it’s time to leave the room and the door is left wide open, or we both grew so much together that we had to move somewhere else—perhaps a much bigger space—you will ask me to come with you to our next place, or maybe you won’t because I’d choose to stay. But right now, I like this place. It’s a beginning I am happy to spend my time with. I appreciate the present, especially with you in it.