I wanted to tell someone. Tell someone the fact, the mundane fact that I had watched it, that after 7 years, well, 5 more so, but still... After 5 years of living with them, falling in love, getting lost and everything in beyond... that it was over. That I cried, purposely elongating the feeling, wishing it was not yet over, but knowing that this was the right choice. The fact that I was with them in the lighthouse, my heart jumping out of my chest when I didn't see Sarah yet, that my friends had concluded their stories for now, without the one pillar that was him. Yet the castle still stood. And that was the breaking point. Without the ground he had established and was stripped from it, but the castle still stood. Through the hurricane. It was the beginning disguised as the end, as the lives scattered around the sky, as stars reminding us that we were just a blinking remnants of the past. It was tough. and the last word... didn't exist. The last paragraph, and the last dot, completing the story, didn't exist, because I waited for him. 

As his life had become infinite, so had the story. There was no end, just a beginning that had already started before I met the Pogues. It was fate, twinkling the line of reality with the understandings of the universe. There was no definite start, nor a definite end. It was liniar, as was our story.