A couple of days ago, as I wrote in my journal, I realized that there were only a few more pages left in the notebook. It suddenly started feeling very bittersweet because true to my nature as a writer, I am a notebook-hoarder. If it’s pretty, I want it, I get it. It’s either that or I’m always gifted pretty notebooks by my friends who know that I have a thing for beautiful stationery. But, no matter how many pretty notebooks I have, the end of a journal really feels like a very difficult goodbye because it holds my thoughts and feelings from over a long period of time.
So, here’s a journal entry that I wrote about knowing what it feels like when you’re nearing the end of something. It’s not necessarily all bad, but it’s still pretty difficult.:
“I don’t know how to explain the kind of dread that starts to envelope you like the mist that embraces a mountain as soon as the clouds start looming over. You know that feeling that comes with the last few days of a summer vacation? The last few hours before a fun road trip comes to an end? The last episode of a show that you’ve been watching for years now. When you’ve been living in the moment for so long and you suddenly have to think ahead for once. It’s the moment that you’re not at all ready for. You know you have to say your goodbyes, but you can’t seem to bring yourself to find the right words. Goodbyes can be so hard. And when you know that something is going to come to an end soon, you’d think you’d be a lot more mentally prepared, but the truth is that you can’t ever be prepared for whatever comes after that. The last few pages of my diary feel something like that. Maybe it’s not as dramatic as everything else, but it’s still such a hard goodbye because I have been writing in these pages for so long. If someone were to get a hold of this notebook someday, they’ll probably have a window into a couple of years of my life. It always feels like a new beginning when I start writing in a new journal, which is ridiculous because how do you expect your life to turn around by just picking up a new notebook to write in? Then again, how do you make peace with something that you know is coming to an end, knowing that you can do nothing that is within your power to stop it from ending. That’s just the way things are sometimes. They end. When you feel too much, you see the end coming from miles away. When you overthink, every little moment feels close to the end. You could tell me to take a break from my thoughts every once in a while, but what am I, really, if not my thoughts?”