Goodbyes and Endings: What are they?
In my English class, we've been talking a lot about endings as we wrap up the stories we've been studying all semester. And it's fitting-- this week in particular has been full of endings. It was the final week of classes, and all my studies since September are coming to a close. I finished my last math class ever, my last Spanish class ever. And now, in English, we talk about endings, and now how plays are structured to provide satisfying conclusions.
Cats, I think, has one of the most cathartic endings of any show I've seen. "Journey to the Heaviside Layer" provides an obvious goodbye. And "The Addressing of Cats" -- a conclusion to the story, a bookend, a farewell in its own right.
Naturally, I think a lot about what those moments in particular will be like on the 30th, but I don't think I can ever truly predict it.
So what all is ending this month? Classes, of course, as I take my finals and turn in projects. Some personal projects as well. One of my roommates is moving out. I'll turn 20, and my teenage years end. And, you know, Cats.
Of course.
Last year this time I was drawing Christmas Cats for the cast. Now I'm trying to force myself to start writing thank you notes. The things I need to say are too much to get out in person, so I can only do it in writing. It's not unlike my need to write this blog-- there is no other way to explain everything.
Last night, Tanner was Alonzo and I started tearing up during "Old Deuteronomy" when he was just standing there. I felt foolish, for sure. There was no real reason to be sad. He'll be on again surely. But probably not as Alonzo. That's what's so weird to think about. You'l hear more about that.
They bumped up lotto prices, and in some ways it was a reality check. I thought I would see the show 88 times (I'm at 78 right now). But I can't pay $50 for that many tickets. Time is ticking and I can practically see my opportunities whittling away. As soon as I thought I had a handle on how many more times I'll get to see the show, that gets shattered. And it's oh so fitting, given everything. I guess I shouldn't complain. Stina's going out of state in less than a week, so her last time to see the show before closing is the 14th. Tori can only see it three more times before closing. Alan, only two. And Theresa and Lauren and Steph have all seen it for the last time until then already. And me? Well, I still don't know, but it's more than that. Am I privileged because of it? Maybe. But at this point, I don't care. I'm allowed to be a little selfish now aren't I?
After the show, I went to McDonald's with Tori, Stina, and Connor, as I so often do. Makeup off, fries and apple pies and chicken nuggets and sundaes ordered, and then we hang out until it gets to be too late for one of us, and then we all leave. I had to catch an early train this morning, so I probably should've left by 11:30.
We stayed until well past midnight, and I didn't get back to school until after 1.
Was it worth it?
Without a doubt.
I love my friends. I have the absolute best group of people in my company, and I wouldn't change a thing. But who knows how many more McDonald's nights we'll have? It's the little things, you know?
And still.
And still there's this nagging, this itch.
A feeling I can't shake, and I hate it I hate it, I hate it.
Because I long for closing the way you long for a natural disaster or the death of a friend- with dread, but overpowering curiosity as to what will happen next. The difference, of course, is that those things are often unlikely, and closing is inevitable.
What was the point of this post, again?
More, later....
Cats, I think, has one of the most cathartic endings of any show I've seen. "Journey to the Heaviside Layer" provides an obvious goodbye. And "The Addressing of Cats" -- a conclusion to the story, a bookend, a farewell in its own right.
Naturally, I think a lot about what those moments in particular will be like on the 30th, but I don't think I can ever truly predict it.
So what all is ending this month? Classes, of course, as I take my finals and turn in projects. Some personal projects as well. One of my roommates is moving out. I'll turn 20, and my teenage years end. And, you know, Cats.
Of course.
Last year this time I was drawing Christmas Cats for the cast. Now I'm trying to force myself to start writing thank you notes. The things I need to say are too much to get out in person, so I can only do it in writing. It's not unlike my need to write this blog-- there is no other way to explain everything.
Last night, Tanner was Alonzo and I started tearing up during "Old Deuteronomy" when he was just standing there. I felt foolish, for sure. There was no real reason to be sad. He'll be on again surely. But probably not as Alonzo. That's what's so weird to think about. You'l hear more about that.
They bumped up lotto prices, and in some ways it was a reality check. I thought I would see the show 88 times (I'm at 78 right now). But I can't pay $50 for that many tickets. Time is ticking and I can practically see my opportunities whittling away. As soon as I thought I had a handle on how many more times I'll get to see the show, that gets shattered. And it's oh so fitting, given everything. I guess I shouldn't complain. Stina's going out of state in less than a week, so her last time to see the show before closing is the 14th. Tori can only see it three more times before closing. Alan, only two. And Theresa and Lauren and Steph have all seen it for the last time until then already. And me? Well, I still don't know, but it's more than that. Am I privileged because of it? Maybe. But at this point, I don't care. I'm allowed to be a little selfish now aren't I?
After the show, I went to McDonald's with Tori, Stina, and Connor, as I so often do. Makeup off, fries and apple pies and chicken nuggets and sundaes ordered, and then we hang out until it gets to be too late for one of us, and then we all leave. I had to catch an early train this morning, so I probably should've left by 11:30.
We stayed until well past midnight, and I didn't get back to school until after 1.
Was it worth it?
Without a doubt.
I love my friends. I have the absolute best group of people in my company, and I wouldn't change a thing. But who knows how many more McDonald's nights we'll have? It's the little things, you know?
And still.
And still there's this nagging, this itch.
A feeling I can't shake, and I hate it I hate it, I hate it.
Because I long for closing the way you long for a natural disaster or the death of a friend- with dread, but overpowering curiosity as to what will happen next. The difference, of course, is that those things are often unlikely, and closing is inevitable.
What was the point of this post, again?
More, later....
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| The Carbuckettys: Tanner, me, Tori, Jakob, Connor, Stina Dec. 9th |
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