As a general statement, I enjoy beginnings- the first page of a book you are destined to love is equal to the first, “Hello” you mutter to a close friend. The beauty of beginnings is the infinite amount of possibilities they open up to: a new friend, a great book, and so much more. I suppose beginnings are the reasons one so despises endings: while beginnings are infinite, an ending is the most finite thing to behold. Albeit, one cannot exist without the other. Without hate, one can never know love, without goodbye, one would never say hello, and without endings, one would never comprehend beginnings.