Approaching endings

A lot is coming to an end for me in the next few weeks. While I've tried to avoid thinking about it, many climactic moments will soon be seeing their resolutions. These were things that I built up in my head, moments I wanted to savor. How could I possibly be ready to reach them? They always seemed so nebulous, as if they never were actually going to arrive.

This is how I feel whenever something ends. In the beginning and even earlier, I spend so much time planning and considering possibilities. When I first came to London in 2007 on a vacation, I spent hours printing out Wikipedia articles about various places I wanted to visit. I endeavored to read through them all bit by bit and highlight important facts so when I got to the city I would be like my own (and my dad's) little tour guide.

Though I didn't manage to read through every article, and admittedly I am a terrible tour guide (I try to remember little tidbits and facts and then I end up forgetting all of them), the act of preparation for the trip only increased my enthusiasm for going to London. When I got there, the place seemed more magical because it had been built up so much in my thoughts.

I've been to London five times now. This last time was has marked the most important, since it required me to essentially become my own navigator and feel like a resident within this city that I love. In actuality, I didn't spend as much time preparing for this individual trip. In the final days before I left for England, I was still reeling over the loss of my free time and summer. I think my excitement was checked by my anxiety at leaving the country by myself.

But no, that's not wholly true. Because even though I didn't have to spend hours preparing for London (having known the city in the past, it didn't feel entirely necessary), I've actually spent the better half of several years preparing for this experience. The time that I got to live in England. If you have ever encountered me in reality, then you know what an important part of my life that this country plays.

Yet faster than you can imagine, I'll be on my way out. There are only two weeks left, during which I'll be writing four papers and hopefully not dying under pressure, whilst also getting a chance to experience the last vestiges of my very special time in the very special city that holds a very special place in my heart.

That's not all that is ending, though. Oh no.

In several weeks, I'll also have done a year with this blog.

When I set out to write a blog a day - and initially that wasn't the plan, but over time it developed into a daily chore (and by that I mean blessing and privilege) that I couldn't let go of. On days when I knew it was nonsensical to stay up an extra hour just to pour some random thoughts onto the internet, I realized how awful I'd feel if I missed a day, and I simply resolved to do the whole 365.

After 365, though, what am I going to do? Do I extend the privilege on? Am I going to keep testing my strengths each night, forcing myself to reopen my laptop even when I don't have the will to do so?

I haven't decided yet.

Unlike London, The Songs of Spring doesn't actually beg for an end. In fact, if anything, it's crying out for more. If I were to leave it as a 365 day project, it would be like cheating this page and myself from the many ramblings that will inevitably come after I've stopped publishing.

And while I know that I will continue to be prolific in other ways - that I will always find an outlet for my thoughts in one way or another - losing this incredibly valuable part of my life would be like losing touch with a best friend. Empty.

London will be leaving me empty enough, thank you very much.

So in January, I'll make my final decision. Whether I can handle the stress of continuing with this responsibility, or if it just becomes too much to handle. But knowing me, and looking back at the last year of my life, clearly I can spare an hour or less a day. Out of 24, I guess I owe myself that.

Not once has anything over the past few months felt like a waste of time. Even moments sitting in my room when I know my time would be better spent outside exploring the city, I feel pleased to just be in this place where a short walk could take me to Regent's Park or Covent Garden. I don't know that I'll ever have that luxury again. Even if (when) I move to London for the long haul, I doubt that my situation will ever be perfectly emulated. And I appreciate all the luxuries that have been afforded to me since mid-September.

One thing I know is that I will never give up my love for what I've experienced. I will never feel less desire to experience these things again - my time in London and my blog.

Moving forward, then, I guess I'm going to keep experiencing them. It would be a waste not to, right? In whatever way possible, the world will see me living the same repetitive dream that I have these past few months. However it plays out is still up in the air, but I have no doubt it will be fulfilling.