it doesn’t have to last forever
“Every happy ending has the day after the happy ending.”
For the past few weeks, Succession was a constant.
Every Monday, I would find one hour throughout the day where I could just sit down, turn on the TV, and be engrossed in the closest thing we have to a modern-day Shakespearean drama (okay, maybe being a bit dramatic there). It dominated my social media timelines, it would become the foundation for many inside jokes, and I even had friendships that were tethered solely on discussing thoughts on the latest episode every Monday.
But then on May 29th 2023, the show ended. It was a great ending, but an ending nonetheless. With the show finished, my Mondays now felt a bit empty. The excitement of awaiting a new episode had dissipated. The jokes and friendships started to fizzle out, now that we no longer had the common thread of the Roy family to connect to us.
A part of me irrationally hopes that the series will be revived at one point and it’ll continue for eternity.
But a part of me is glad that it didn’t last forever.
There’s a quote from Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin that’s stuck with me ever since I read it.
“It isn’t a sadness, but a joy, that we don’t do the same things for the length of our lives.”
Growing up, I naively had a feeling that everything would be permanent — that the friends I met on the playground would be the uncles and aunties for my children, that my parents and family were immortal and would be with me every step of the way, that my first love would be my last love (because love always lasts forever right?).
Gradually, I realized that we do not live infinitely — our lives, and most things in them, are finite. School ends, friends move somewhere else, family members grow old and pass away, ‘love’ turns out to be a temporary obsession, and your favorite shows end.
There is always sadness with endings. But there can also be joy because things don’t last forever.
Some — if not many — things are beautiful only because they don’t last forever. Spending an amazing week with friends may not be as amazing if you had to spend a year with them. Everyone thinks back to university as some of the most amazing 4 years of their life, but it’s not so fun once you’ve been there for 7–8 years. The knowledge of the death of your loved ones will scare everyone, but it will also make you cherish the time you have with them more.
Inevitably, the person you are right now won’t be the same forever. You’ll change, you’ll learn, you’ll grow out of people and places. You’ll meet new people, you’ll move to new places, you’ll find new hobbies and career ambitions.
After every ending, there will always be the morning after. The show will always go on. It’s not the ending until it’s ended.
But that does lead to another question — does anything last forever?
Maybe some things do. Maybe one day you’ll decide to settle down somewhere permanently. You’ll find the ‘one’ and commit to a lifetime with them. Some people will refuse to quit on you, and decide to be your friend forever.
So how do you retain the beauty of things that last forever?
It’s all nice to hear about relationships that last forever and houses that are maintained in tip-top shape for generations. But in reality, it’s incredibly difficult to keep things that last for a lifetime. It’s compromise, it’s sweat and tears, it’s hard work.
In reality, it’s easy to be tempted by the shine of new things rather than the wear and tear of old things.
But I’d like to think that the beauty of permanent things does not lie in their perfection, but rather in their imperfection.
Yes, first-edition books in mint condition are beautiful to admire from afar. But an unknown copy of the same book with a withered cover and a weak spine is beautiful too — someone held the book in their hands and actually turned the pages. Maybe there are some pages where teardrops fell and dried up. A mint condition book is beautiful because of its perfection, but a used book is beautiful because, at one point in time, it was used, it was read, and it was loved.
Things that last a lifetime are not always perfect. They will lose their sheen and their sparkle. They will be difficult to maintain at times. But when you’ve decided to keep something forever, then you’ve committed to doing it for better or for worse. And to quote one of my favorite articles from Kurt Armstrong:
“For better, for worse,” we say, and everyone likes to stay when it’s the better. But staying through the worse — that’s the whole point of the vow, for Christ’s sake.
If it’s worth keeping, it’s worth maintaining. Find the beauty in the imperfection and the wear and tear, instead of the shine and sparkle.
There is one more thing that I think can last forever.
Most of the relationships we have with people end. Whether it be through growing apart, an argument, or death, people drift in and out of our lives.
But I think we keep a little bit of each person we meet. Maybe it’s a fleeting memory, a favorite song, a night we won’t forget, or a habit we just can’t seem to get rid of.
I think it’s best summarized by this Tumblr post:
Our lives are mosaics of all the people we’ve ever met — some fragments come and go, but some stay embedded forever. My food preferences are shaped by the restaurants that my friends and family recommended to me. I write a certain way because I received feedback from my cousin back when I was in high school. The only dance moves I can confidently pull off are the dance moves that my best friend taught to me years ago. The list goes on.
I hope that in some way, I also have left a lasting piece of myself in the people that I’ve loved and have loved me. I’m not oblivious enough to expect it’ll always be the best piece — I’m sure that I’ve hurt some people or left a nasty taste in the mouth of some others.
But I hope that for the majority of people I’ve had an encounter with, I’ve been good enough to leave a small piece, whether it be something as small as opening the door for them or something as big as irrevocably altering the trajectory of their life (this one is highly unlikely).
Regardless of how I may have impacted others, I’m glad that I carry everyone I’ve ever met in a way, that I’m made up of pieces of everyone I’ve ever met, that I’ve learned something from all the relationships I’ve ever had, and even if some of those pieces wither away, the ones that matter will last forever.
Of course, Succession wasn’t the first time a favorite show has ended. HIMYM, Game of Thrones, and Bojack Horseman all had their finales and ceased to exist.
And as much as I wish that the shows could go on forever, I know that it’s for the better that they came to an end.
There will be new shows to watch. There will be new characters to love. There will be new places to watch them from. There will be new people to watch them with.
The show must go on until it doesn’t.
But there will always be the morning after. And the morning after. And the morning after.
