The Last Time Happened Without Me Knowing

Most endings don’t announce themselves.

Photo by Kirk Cameron on Unsplash

I have always thought endings would be easier to recognize. That there would be a final conversation.

A last laugh or a final goodbye.

Something that would clearly tell us: “This is it.”

But most endings are far less considerate, they often come in the disguise of ordinary moments. And by the time we realize they were endings, they are already memories.

When I was in second grade, I had a fight with my then best friend. I don’t remember what it was about, we argued and went home.

I assumed we’d see each other the next day and continue being friends. The next day, she didn’t come to school. Then the day after that..

Eventually, I learned she wasn’t coming back. I never got to know whether she was still angry. Never found out if she even remembered the fight.

I think that was the first unfinished thing in my life and I was naive enough to think that, it would be the only one as well.

But as I grew older, I realized life is full of unfinished things.

In eighth grade, there were people I should have left much earlier than I did. Eventually, I walked away without any dramatic confrontation.

Part of me thought I should have said something, whereas, another part of me was simply relieved it was over.

Even today, I’m not sure which part was right.

Then there were the good people, the ones who mattered more, even those friendships slowly faded, when life pulled us in different directions.

Photo by Dan Meyers on Unsplash

The people who were once part of every day and then gradually became part of a memory. No fights just distance.

One day you talk every evening, a few months later, you don’t.

One day they’re among the first people you think of and years later, you wonder what they’re doing now.

Somehow, those endings hurt the most. Not because they ended badly, but because they never really ended at all.

It’s just like a question mark where a full stop should have been.

Looking back, I thought the unfinished things in my life were people. The friendships that slowly faded and the conversations which never happened.

But lately, I’ve started wondering if the most unfinished thing in my life is me.

When I was younger, I never thought much before doing things.

Once I stood in front of an entire classroom and made everyone laugh. 30 people.

Today, that feels like something I would never do.

Confidence became caution, excitement became hesitation, and I started caring far more about what people thought than I ever used to.

Or maybe it didn’t.

That’s the part I still haven’t figured out and that’s what makes me unfinished.

Was I supposed to outgrow that carefree kid? Or did I accidentally abandon that version along the way? Or have I simply become someone who overthinks?

I don’t know.

And perhaps that’s the most unfinished thing of all.

Not a conversation or a goodbye.

But the ongoing negotiation between who I was, who I am and who I am trying to become.

Deciding what to carry forward and what to let go of.

Maybe the goal was never to become finished, maybe the goal was simply to keep becoming.

Thank you Manmeet Singh Bhatia for giving me the chance to participate in this beautiful writing challenge.

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