Loss

We are afraid of endings, and we are afraid of loss.  When something ends, do we have any more sight of what we once observed?  A song which sounds sweet years by feels as though it may disappear forever if we do not have some means to capture it, to hold it and never let go.

I download a television show and watch it, exulting in the joy it brings from nostalgic memory and discovery lived anew.  Once I am done, I do not delete it, I want to keep it. I never want to have it lost, whether it is ever played again, I keep the knowledge that it is something I possess and cannot be taken away from me.  Over time, how much can I keep, and does the hoarding ever stop?

Does it even need to stop, while we march forward with so much baggage and an ever growing capacity.  What happens when this capacity fails, and we fall into the back bit of loss and ending.  Time heals all wounds, but how long will it take to heal the opened wounds of lost loved thing?