How Can I Learn To Say Goodbye?

I have always struggled with letting things go. Relationships. People. Places. Things. Even if I was unhappy I can’t seem to accept that it might be gone, or things might be different. And when I am happy, I want it to last forever. The prospect of my happiness being finite scares me. I have allowed my fear to dictate many of my decisions. I am too afraid to let go, so I hold on. But I need to take my own advice. You can’t hold on to something that isn’t holding on to you, so let go. But what if I am being held on to? With a strength so indelible that it leaves my skin molded like hands pressed into cement. Then maybe the silver lining is that I will have been changed. That is, the memory will endure in my heart. Perhaps it will be reflected in the things I say or the way I see things. The time I spent in a place will have reshaped my perspective. With each embrace my heart has been shaped, reshaped, like hands mold the rims of clay. And that cannot be changed.

Memories won’t leave you. Until you can no longer remember. The smell of the air, or the sound of their voice. I’ll be left with wrinkled petals, once a rose, which with each breath of wind begin to lose radiance and disappear. If I had one wish. I would wish for my memories to remain as vibrant as if I had just lived them. Memories fade like a tree sheds its leaves. At first it's a single leaf. Before you know it, the entire tree is barren and empty. And you begin to question if the tree was ever lush at all. Why do we enjoy things more when there's a time limit? The fact that something is almost over makes it somehow more satisfying. We begin to take it all in and hold on extra tight. And realize. The end is here. I am afraid of change. I’ll admit that. But more than anything, I am afraid of rushing through my life to reach its end. Rushing through the week to get to the weekend. Or pushing through winter to get to spring. I don’t want to live a life of endurance, but of acceptance. For a while, I didn’t see the value of time. I only saw countdowns. If I can just make it to winter break… Then I’ll be happy. Endings remind us that time carries sentience like trees drop its petals and leaves. You can’t wait until a flower blooms to see that its beauty was there all along.