Firsts are hard.

They are scary and new and you don’t know what to expect. But, after the first, there is a second and sometimes even a third. And what was scary and new turns into old and boring. You adjust and take on more than you ever thought you could, but then it becomes your nature.

What’s even scarier is lasts. The last time you do something you know and have grown to love.

The last song.

The last time you play in a game of the sport you love.

The last time you hang out with a friend.

The last clap.

The last episode.

The last time you walk down the hallways you’ve memorized.

The last time you say, “I love you”.

Wishing you had taken just a second longer to enjoy them.

You feel like you’ve lost something. But can’t get it back.

The clocks just never stop going.

Most of the time, it is impossible to know that it is the last. Small things flit past, unnoticed. While big things ending are hard.

The blackness of the last steps are scarier than the first ones will ever be.