Why do all good things come to an end?

Why do all good things come to an end?

Have you ever tried as hard as you could to hold onto something but it didn’t matter how much you tried because it was already gone? Something that you thought belonged to you but in truth it was never really yours. The feeling of separation or emptiness after being once full makes us wonder why all good things come to an end

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When good things come to an end, it is that end that makes our memories all the more perfect …all the more desirable. We live history in the making yet it feels like we are just going through a maze that has no ending. Yesterday is today’s comfort zone and it seems the future will remain uncertain... a hope for the lost, a trial for the happy.

More farewells than beginnings it seems, as we don’t remember when it started but we do remember when it ended. "Why all good things must come to end?", you might ask. Unfortunately I do not have the answer for that question but what I can tell you is how it feels everytime it happens...

Have you ever felt the sadness of departure yet you were actually arriving? To realize you’ve looked forward to something so much that the thought of it ending impedes it’s potential. Or is it just a case of too much thinking? You are on the journey to, yet you are already thinking of the journey away. It’s quite a hard perspective to indulge in but the reality of it is inevitable and all good things do end, yet it seems everything miserable in our lives remain imprinted on us from birth to death.

Yet I choose to live in the hope for more chances at “good things” to happen even if it is going to end. Going beyond being optimistic versus being pessimistic, it’s not so much thinking the best of things but it is in accepting nothing in our lives is sure to last forever. We take extravagant life-long insurance policies on all the materialistic things in our life but we could never protect the things that truly feed our soul and make us truly happy. For every time I heard someone say in response to a statement like this one, “Well that’s life”, a strange stifling feeling envelops me.

May I ask, what is life? Why do we have so many expectations of it and why does it become bad just because we are not happy with the way things turned out? I’ve never heard someone say “Well that’s life” when they were randomly chosen to win huge sums of cash or when they heard the cry of their first born for the very first time. Maybe I was just born that way, but I can’t passively accept that my life is the way it is because of life itself.

While good things come to end I still believe in the chance of everlasting “good”. Maybe it is hope, maybe optimism, maybe belief, but whatever it is doesn’t matter but what matters is that I continue to believe it...

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