Today’s Daily Prompt:
You have the chance to write one last post on your blog before you stop blogging forever. Write it.
An odd prompt, it strikes me. Most lasts are sneaky little bastards.
They don’t announce themselves beforehand. They don’t knock on the door, politely, to quietly inform you to wholeheartedly appreciate this last, because no more are coming. They don’t wake you up in the middle of the night with a nagging presentiment that the end is nigh.
They don’t tell you that this is the final day of your innocence.
The last day of happiness before it happens, whatever it may be.
The last day you believe in fairy tales.
The last kiss.
They don’t care about any promises you’ve made, either.
They don’t care about the long, agonizing debates, internal and external, you’ve had. They don’t want you to choose which is the last. They take even that away from you. You wanted this one to be the last? No, you can either finish early or keep going.
They don’t care how much you vow to treasure every thing that’s precious to you. It’s impossible to value every moment as much as you wish you had valued it when it’s gone forever. Which is completely unfair.
The painful loss of having seen the last is only worsened by the guilt you feel for not enjoying that last enough. Don’t do that to yourself. Don’t even worry about it.
I’ll respond to this prompt by refusing to respond to it.
It’s not fair to ask anyone to say goodbye when it isn’t time to say goodbye.
Lasts don’t need practice runs.
And an authentic last leaves off before it’s even finishe