Whether it's that of a relationship, a good day, or a movie, I just don't like them. You're sitting there, staring at the screen (credits rolling), and there's that feeling that there was something more to be had, something that you might have missed, something of you that's only recognized through its absence. A general feeling of incompleteness. And then there's that question, "Now what?"

Really, now what? Let's say somebody who was a part of your life for many years, or a couple days even, suddenly jumps right out of it, the same way one might just hop off of a moving train. Just hops right on off without warning. You're still on the train, charging forward and unable to stop, and as you look back, you see your companion standing in the distance, shrinking and shrinking and shrinking, until (squint) you can hardly make out her face anymore, until she becomes nothing more than a tiny black speck.

Chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga.

There's that feeling. You might feel a little betrayed, a little bitter. There may even be some crying involved--for yourself (if you're into self-pity), for your companion who abandoned you because you weren't good enough (if you're into self-deprication), or, if you're like me, for the loss of what was once something whole. For the ending.

The same way you leave a venue after the best show ever, knowing something this good won't come again for a long time. The same way you suddenly get inspiration and know exactly what you want to say, and the words fall together perfectly, but you feel empty and drained afterwards, like you won't be able to write again. The same way you surrender a near-perfect day by putting your head down to the pillow, knowing tomorrow probably won't even compare. We all know those days are few and far between.

But if you can just live for those days and know that getting through what seems to be the most boring day of your life means bringing you one step closer to the wake-up-on-the-right-side-of-bed-and-everything-goes-right day waiting around the corner...then endings would be a whole lot easier. For so long as you are breathing, every ending in your life will consistently have another beginning riding on its coattail (however long that coattail may be). Because, soon enough, another passenger will come join you, just as the potential of another good day will stream through your blinds tomorrow morning; just as there will always be more movies, more shows, and more endings.

And now what? Where should we go from here? The endings. The questions, the possiblities, the open doors, the beginnings and "start of"s...

Chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga.