the end is where we begin, or something equally cliché

i forget sometimes, that everything has to end. everything. everything good, everything bad, everything you've waited so long for. it always ends.

endings taste like lemon heads. the idea of a fresh start, and meeting new people, and moving forward, and growing is so sweet. but i'm afraid. afraid i won't quite cut it. afraid that the future i've been building in my head out of fairytales and dreams won't ever come true.

part of me can't wait for this year to end, but part of me wishes i could rewind and live it over, and over, and over again. but we must all grow older, and we cannot let our fear stand in the way of our futures.

i cannot stand in the way of my own light.

i must not stand in the way of my own light.

i will not stand in the way of my own light.

like dark chocolate. it's bittersweet.