“ All’s well that ends” is the mantra that lies on my heart and the tip of my lips as I ride this evening to a close. A bit of a redux from the normal passages of human response, but poignant none-the-less.
For the phrase “All’s well that ends WELL” is a false statement, built on romanticism. It has very little place in the real world of life and Death and love and loss. In truth, “All’s well that ends” is less the accepted usage yet more the proper. To everything there is a season, albeit sad and lonely and quite often, “wrong,” yet always is the end a new beginning.
“All’s well that ends.”
Why do we, as humans, view the end of a statement as the final resting place of a thought? Why do we so fanatically view the end as such a gravestone for our hopes and dreams and ideas?
Why can we not leave that sentence exactly as it lies? Because we, simply, feel like we are due more.
More of an answer, maybe? More of a truth? More of a fairytale, based on those told to us as children…
“The world will make sense one day, my young one. For all is well, once it ends well.”
Yet, how often does anything truly end “well?” How many times can we count on a fairytale? Ever? Never?
More often than not, sadly, it is the latter. Because fairytales rarely exist in this world of realism and algorithms. They cease to matter once the antidepressants have dissolved and made their way into our bloodstreams, cascading forth their eternal apathy.
Yet, the truth is the truth, no matter how you may choose to slice it. The end of something is always the beginning of something else.
Here at the cusp of this page, the edge of this precipice, lies not the finite line between what is and what could be. Here, on this fault, lies the difference between making a new decision and dying, drowning in the arms, in the confines, of decisions yet to be made. Here, on this ledge, I chose the open ended over the finite. Here, I chose “All’s well that ends,” for the next step is inevitably “All’s well that begins,” regardless of how it may have ended.