I think it would be a little too much to say that this is a bittersweet ending: half fun and free, filled with dreams made of clouds and sunsets: only substantial enough for our minds, the other half full of the sorrow of parting ways. I think that's too much for this occasion, so instead, I think I'll try to talk about how this isn't the end. Nothing is, really. Even 'the apocalypse' is just another way to tell us the beginning of our own doom is only starting. I think everything has a chance to be a beginning, including death. Even if it's the end of your life, it the beginning of someone's despair. But while they're sad, they have a chance to grow into a new person, one may be even better than what they were before. I think I'm trying to say that I like to believe the best of us are born with a thousand beginnings and no definite endings. We just keep going on more and more until it all crashes down on us, the remnants of our own life crumbled beside our limp bodies. Of course, however, we can build up from our ruins. Everything is a chance to rebuild and fix. You can create anything out of hopelessness.