Taylor Swift was right: I didn’t like the ending

Oh hey.

I hope you missed me. I know it’s been a while.

This probably isn’t news to most of you, but my favorite show is ending next week. Dan Fogelman, the creator of This Is Us, has told us from the beginning that they were done after six seasons. I’ve known for years that the end was around the corner, but I really started to block that out and pretend like they would end up with ten seasons or even more.

Two things to know about me is This Is Us is my free therapy session, and Jack Pearson is the love of my life. Since 2016, it became the show I would cozy up with a blanket and a snack to watch, a box of tissues close by because it doesn’t take much to get me weeping. Every Tuesday night, I knew I would end the night emotionally exhausted, my makeup running down my face from all the tears shed. It’s a show that pulls on my heartstrings and makes me feel emotions that I didn’t think I could feel from something that isn’t even real.

The thing is, I’ve grown so deeply attached to the show and the characters, and it’s become something that means the world to me and has truly helped me in how to cope with life and relationships. I know not all shows can last forever, but I don’t feel ready to say goodbye just yet.

As I’ve been trying to emotionally prepare for the final farewell of my favorite show, I started thinking about endings. The abrupt ones you never see coming, stealing the breath from your lungs. The ones you never think you’ll recover from. I can honestly say that fictional endings are hard for me, from a book I read to a movie I’m watching. I become so engrossed in the story that I feel all of the emotions that come with it. I’ve come to terms that it’s just who I am, and I genuinely thought that because I’m a writer, endings shouldn’t bother me. After all, isn’t that a big part of storytelling? Every story has an ending. I thought I would be great at them, but the truth is, as a girl in her early twenties, endings are hard, especially when that ending is a tall, handsome guy who smells like cologne and aftershave.

Sam Smith once sang that he’s way too good at goodbyes, and I’m starting to become increasingly jealous of him. As I’ve navigated my college days into post-grad life, I’ve had my fair share of goodbyes. In fact, I’ve had so many that I am becoming terrified to even say hello out of fear of what will transpire. How long will you stick around? Are you making yourself comfortable, or are you going to just keep your shoes on at the door? What will be the reason you leave? Is it your fear of commitment, how you need to work on yourself, or how you think I’m too good for you? Or is it because you have endless options in a world where you can swipe left or right on someone? And if you do decide to go, how will you do it? Will it be from a phone call at 2 am, a single text message where you tell me how great I am, “but…”, or will you become a ghost, never to hear from again? Or will you look me in the eyes and say it to my face? There are so many reasons and ways to end something, and I feel like I’ve experienced all of them. No matter why or how it’s done, I never love it, and I never feel like I will recover.

The Lord has heard it all from me, from anger to disappointment, and sadness, to my hundreds of questions in the aftermath of someone choosing to walk out of my life. Even in the worst version of myself, even when I’m avoiding Him because I’m so ashamed that I allowed myself to get swept up in something that was truly too good to be true, I’ve still felt His presence and loving-kindness.

I can’t imagine I’m the only person who wishes they could write a better ending to a story where a person chooses to walk out. I want to keep my foot in the door; I want to make it known that I’m here if you decide to come back. I hate admitting it, but that’s how I feel most of the time. I would hold the door for someone any day, even if they don’t deserve it. Taylor Swift said in her song Cardigan that she tried to change the ending, Peter losing Wendy, and that line just echoes in my head all the time.

Maybe that’s you. Maybe you’ve been reading and relate to everything I’m saying. I know where you are or where you might’ve once been. When I write, I’m always preaching to myself too. Can I encourage you (and maybe myself) for a moment?

Close the door. I need you to do it because you love yourself, and you know that you deserve more. I want to analyze in my head why someone is leaving. I want to know their thoughts and what led them to that decision. However, it’s useless wondering, and it won’t do a thing for your healing journey. I’ve spent years in these horrible cycles of blaming myself and fixating on if I was the problem all along. It probably has little to do with me, and I’m sure the same goes for you.

Not every story is meant to last forever, and there are always lessons to be learned from people being in our lives, no matter the length of time they were there. I’ve also started to believe that people leaving makes room for other people to come into our lives, people who will choose to stay. Maybe the best person you’ll ever meet, someone you will someday wonder how you ever lived without, is on their way. I don’t know about you, but that makes me want to get out of bed every morning.

There is one more thing I’d love to encourage you with… these are questions I ask the Lord when I’m really struggling and wanting to make sense of a situation. I hope you can use these as a starting place towards finding healing and answers to what you’re going through:

Lord, why does this feel like a cycle in my life? How can I avoid these situations moving forward? How can I find You in the midst of my pain? What part did I play in the downfall of this? How can I guard my heart but still be open to a new thing down the road? Show me how to forgive this person even though it’s hard. Show me why this ended and what I can take as a lesson moving forward. Through my hurt, I trust You.

I don’t pretend to have all the right answers; I know situations are sometimes messy, and people are messy. But from one friend to another, I hope you find the willpower to put yourself first and discover the greatness in you. Anyone who doesn’t see it doesn’t deserve you. As I’ve been writing this, I’ve been praying for each person reading these words. I hope something resonates with you. I hope you come back to this on the days when you need it most.

I know we’re going to be okay.