Living with Ellipses
My life is full of ellipses. You know, the kind that end a sentence suggestively . . .
Which isn’t a real ending at all, if you think about it . . .
There isn’t always closure where I want closure.
My life leaves me hanging with unknowns.
I don’t get to know how this line of my life will end . . .
And yet . . .
My life keeps writing new sentences anyway . . .
I grasp backwards, wishing for proper punctuation to wrap up an issue neatly, to label a problem solved, to see a disagreement resolved. My own story draws my eyes forward in spite of myself, but sometimes I linger on a ellipsis and wonder what to make of the lack of an ending . . .