happy endings

So here we are again. A curtain call, a final bow and then the curtains seemingly complete their descent in the blink of an eye. And then you can’t quite make out if that was applause you’d heard. Oh wait, its not the end yet isn’t it? Just the transition from one scene to another. That’s it. The final scene’s still a long way away isn’t it? That’s when the applause will come; when the crowd breaks out in rapturous appreciation and numerous standing ovations. Yes that’s it.

Isn’t it?

You know how sometimes dreams seem so real it feels as if you’re wide awake and physically there witnessing every sight and sound, feeling every brush against your skin…..and then you wake up and that world is a distant memory? I guess you might say that’s what the year past seems like to me.

A year of road bikes and spandex and a taste for the thrill of high speed, not to mention being left behind. A year of funny races, girls displaying pure grit and rappelling down ropes in busy shopping malls. Of sewing names on pillows, making videos and getting pissed off at slackers with German names, not to mention finding someone I can bitch to who will agree with me (thanks Bern!).

Of mugging, realising how many people I know in the law fac and meeting the girl of my dreams in highly unexpected circumstances.

Of going to America and learning more about myself than I suspect I’ll ever know. Of realising for the umpteenth time He’s there for me no matter what happens. And then forgetting again. Of evil amusement parks, cramped apartments, inane heckling and people from all over the world. Of rigged games, giant soft toys and the total loss of any sort of fear of roller coasters that might have existed before. Of blacks, whites and the rural American.

Of ruined homes, flooded districts and picking out people’s lives from the rubble piece by piece. Of hammers, crowbars and being moved almost to tears by the owner standing off at the side stoically telling us he’s gotten over it.

Of travels, shopping and flings with random English girls for whom you’d helped fix an ipod and then pissing her off when you’d unknowingly snubbed her. Of conflict, being a right arse and travels on your lonesome. Of langa-ing cars, missing flights, Beluga whales and a whole bunch of whale sharks that left my jaw hanging around my ankles for a while. Of Monty Python, Central Park, the New York Fire Department and “We will, we will rock you!” Of having a discussion about Islam and the world with a French-Algerian Muslim and an Italian/Belgian Roman Catholic while looking out at Ground Zero.

Of monster late night study sessions, Fong Seng and blasting music with the windows wound down. Of working harder than I’ve ever worked before and not getting the results to show for it. Of coming to terms with the fact that it doesn’t matter how you feel if she doesn’t feel it too. Of John and Paul and Ringo and George.

The verdict isn’t out yet but one thing’s for sure. It’s been some year.