Time is slipping away from me, I can feel it. One day slips into another, soon a month has gone by, six months, a year. It’s all a blur, and it’s all too fast. Then I take a moment, sit back, and time stands on its head. It doesn’t move, it doesn’t waver, just surrounds me in its bubble, and I’m kept safe.
I strive after so many things, and end up feeling like I’m failing at them all. Maybe that’s okay. Failures always serve to teach us something we otherwise wouldn’t have learned. I can’t keep up, yet no matter how many times I tell myself to stop, I can’t stop trying.
It’s like life is a race that I’m desperate to win. And I know that desperation must be off putting to those around me. I’m insecure, I feel incompetent, yet I have no actual proof of an absolute failure.
Sometimes I think that would be easier. At least I wouldn’t be stuck in this limbo, back and forth, chasing one dream, then another, never committing to any of them because I’m always so torn. And yet, each of those things holds a part of me, and I don’t want to let go of them completely.
Maybe my form’s wrong. Maybe it’s my methods. Maybe I don’t truly care about anything at all. Maybe I care too much.
The weight of people’s opinions weighs heavy on me tonight. I feel like in not being more, in not being better than what I am, that I’m letting everyone around me down. Even if they don’t notice, I’m letting myself down.
And then it hits me just how short life can be. A year since the passing of someone I had so much to learn from. Others sick, dying. And I wonder when it’s going to be my turn. Almost like I can’t escape. Like I don’t believe I’m worth living.
Then, none of us escapes. The clock keeps ticking. Echoing louder and louder as our vision swirls and everything gets brighter.
I talk my way through, because I don’t know what else to do. I know this is a phase, and not all are pleasant. And yet, there are so many simple joys and pleasures all around me. Smiles and laughter, those that come from the heart. A hug from a loved one. A season of lights, and love.
And I’m thankful once again, that my hope does not rest in this world, or in my abilities, or my failures. My hope rests in the Creator of time itself. And my life is in His hands.