I know you’re reading the title of this being like Leah, when are you going to give up the senior graduating college trope? The answer, my friends, is never. Anyways, continue on to the article.
I have always loved to start something new with the knowledge that eventually I’ll have a final culminating event of that thing that sums everything up in a nice, usually tear soaked, bow.
Dr. Seuss once said, “Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened”.
And to that I say… AHHHHHHHHHHH.
I hate that phrase, okay? Sue me. I don’t enjoy endings; I love the final event that is bound to happen. In my perfect world, if I love something, I want it to go on forever and ever with no end in sight.
So then why do I start something with the longing feeling for the end culmination event in mind?
Because Finn Hudson once said in a much better quote, “Being a part of something special makes you special” (Glee > Dr. Seuss).
That is exactly it.
I long to be a part of something special so that I will, in turn, be special. This is true.
Things inherently come to an end. This is also true.
So, when I am a part of something special, and I feel exceedingly special on that last day, meeting, show, or banquet, nothing in the world could beat the intensity of that feeling.
That is until I leave said event, and a feeling of aimlessness, dread, and instant longing slithers its way out of the shadows and into my heart.
The energy that is quickly being drained from my heart must be put into the prospect of finding something new to chase the feeling of that last.
Thus, the first-last paradox is born.
After many years of struggling with the first last paradox, I had exhausted myself of hobbies, tears, and joyous events.
In almost exactly a month, I will experience the most intense form of the first last paradox I have ever felt in my life.
I started my first dance when I was 3 years old. I didn’t know that I would continue to do it until I was 22 years old.
There have been last fake-outs in my dance career, sure. When I switched main styles and hated dance for a while. When I stopped dancing for a few years in high school.
But this really is the last.
My last show.
I’ve tried to think back on my firsts in dance to be able to view my last as that culmination event and I just can’t seem to do it. This first has gone on for too long to allow the last to be a high that I’m chasing. The overwhelming power that this hobby has over me is making me feel helpless and I haven’t even stopped yet.
So, for those of you who struggle with the first-last paradox, let me offer you this from a fellow laster.
The first-last paradox can feel linear. For me, it feels like 19 years of linear that is about to just stop going.
Though it feels that way, it’s not. The first-last paradox is cyclical, and many can exist within one paradox but also extend beyond one another.
When I end dance, that line will feel cut too abruptly short. When I cry about these experiences, I will have a new first-last paradox, my roommates, scoop me up and carry me with them through our first-last paradox (except ours will last in every universe, so that is technically just a first paradox).
Eventually, I will pick myself up and use the strength from the last 19 years to thrust me into my new first that will hopefully last forever.
Sincerely,
A future firster.