Tiny moments of utter paradise in life:
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The last few moments of semi-lucidity before you drift off to sleep.
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Driving home alone with the sunroof open and music playing.
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Sudden rain at dusk in the springtime.
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Saying goodbye to an old friend from far away after a rare visit.
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Watching the credits roll at the end of a long, deeply loved television series.
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Leaving the building on the last day of school.
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Boarding an airplane to move to a distant place.
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The very last day of summer before fall arrives.
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The last few minutes before midnight on the last day of the year.
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The final play of the final game of football season.
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The first few steps away from something you’ll never return to.
Everything that brings me joy and makes me feel alive is an ending.
Why do I love endings so much? Another question for the inner therapist?