I hate this feeling.
This terrible, gnawing feeling inside of me. It’s bittersweet and nostalgic, and I cannot, for the life of me, put my finger on it. But I know I hate it.
The closest thing I could find to describing this inexplicable feeling was the Pernice Brothers’ The Weakest Shade of Blue. It strikes a chord in me; it pulls a string I didn’t know could be strung.
It’s the feeling of an ending. Yet, the start of something new. It’s how you feel when you’re seeing someone for presumably the last time. Or you think of what could have been. When you graduate. When you’re on the fence, and you decide to leap.
And I’m leaping.
Because while things are ending, the weakest shade of blue means
the start
of something new.