I turned 26 today. On the same day, I also finished a vignette collection that I’d been working on for nearly 3 years. That’s got to mean something, right? Some metaphor, some closed loop in the story, perfectly wrapped up on a birthday. Right?
It’s strange. I don’t think I can properly summarize how I feel right now. There’s a lot of sadness that I wasn’t expecting. Mixed in, of course, with a lot of happiness and some pride. Still, why am I sad?
This morning, I was doing my last read-through for the entire project. I had spent a great deal of time making sure I was happy with the ordering of the vignettes, that the pieces flowed seamlessly with each other, or played off of different notes to enhance certain meanings. For a few hours, I sat in my town’s public library, happily listening to folks turning textbook pages or voices asking questions to the librarian. It was a marvelously sunny day, and the light from outside came streaming through the windows at the rafters. I continued to read my project, thinking I still had a ways to go. But then all at once, I was done.
As I quietly closed my laptop, looking out into the library scene, I couldn’t help thinking, “It’s over, isn’t it?”
I don’t know what I would expect to feel at the very end of it. I thought that I would be cheering with loved ones, downing a beer in celebration, but instead, what I feel now can only be described as grief. Finally arriving at the very end of it all.
I’ve poured my heart into this vignette collection. My heart and my time. For two or so years. I started this writing project in the midst of extreme isolation, when we had been stored away into our homes. The world is much different now and it almost seems like a faraway memory to recall that we were afraid to meet each other. Call me foolish, but in many ways, this vignette collection kept me company during that time. It gave me a quiet hope that the day at hand could be different than one before. Though two years later, there were many days I wasn’t sure that I would finish it. I thought that it would be this never-ending project that I couldn’t quite perfect.
But more than that, this vignette collection has seen me through a large part of my twenties. It walked me through heartache, grief, disappointment, and certain loves. When I started this, I was a bit more foolish than I am now. At 23, I don’t know how I could not have been. Back then, I doubted myself a lot more. I didn’t speak up. I was a bit more naive. I overthought to the point of detriment. I don’t know if I still like who I used to be, but in some ways, I miss her. I miss what life represented back that and its different meanings. Somehow, my vignette collection was able to capture that. So now that it’s done, it means that that phase of my life is now done. It’s over, isn’t it?
It’s strange, this grief. But I know I shouldn’t undervalue how happy I am too that it’s finished. I know I should feel proud, but that feeling usually comes later for me. By then, it’ll hit me like a ton of bricks. I know I worked hard for this project and I really do hope that it get’s published at one point. I want people to read it. I want to share what I’ve done.
I don’t want to talk about next steps for publishing or anything. I think I’m just trying to allow the feelings to wash over me. The grief. The happiness. Let me just stay here for a while. I know whatever it is, it doesn’t last forever.