This Too Will Come to an End
A Reflection by Letters from Xhale
This Too Will Come to an End
I had a good day— laughter rising easy, often in glee over a song that made me smile. For a while, everything felt light. Then the old grind stirred, eager to offend, to pull me back into its steady hum. But I remembered— this is not going to last. Not the laughter. Not the weight. Small thoughts return— a gentle lie told to comfort me about life, about forever. And I hear my grandmother's understanding like a quiet hand on my shoulder: this too will come to an end. The song fades. The echo thins. The day releases its color.
Letters from Xhale — Words that breathe. Stories that linger.
Part of the Xhale Chronicles — an independent collection of original reflections, short stories, music lyrics, movie plots, and scripts.
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Author’s Note: When my grandmother said everything ends, she wasn’t warning me, she was loosening the knot. The bright days, the heavy ones, the songs that catch in the throat—all of them are already on their way to closing. Remembering that is how I make room to breathe inside the moment: letting it be vivid, letting it be flawed, trusting that its exit is a kind of mercy. In that quiet, where endings are certain and nothing is owed forever, I find the softest grace I know.
