It all ends and starts here.
The beginning, the fast-paced more more more start of you and me. The excitement of the unknown, the hushed secret of it all. This is the time when it began.
The breakdown and break up is now too. The free-flowing tears and fists flying in all-consuming anger and disappointment. The shaking of bare-bones and inability to fix what was now fractured. The beginning of the end.
The true end is today. No more flowery words and promises of the future. It is hard stopped and unceremonious.
The end of things isn’t always pretty or neatly packaged. Some things are severed, grotesquely broken away with no regard for past or future.
We are over. We are started, finished, and ruined. A play in three acts, November end being the time of each.
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