i feel as if i am in mourning. there is a sheet covering my door. the walls have become bare, so bare and so white i can barely stand to look at them. all of the things that have been mine for a year will not be mine anymore come the break of day. there are words, written in straight lines, folded in thirds and slid into envelopes. so final. i have said this before but it feels like this is the beginning of the end. but do you know how many beginnings of the end i have had before, just this year? i am tired of endings. i know i will fight against this feeling for the rest of my life. will i ever win?