The personal nature of time

Time follows itself so inexorably. My father died in 1993. 22 years ago. How dare the world go on?

The world’s a big party and we are here only for a little time. The show must go on. But the truth of the matter is the show goes on and cares little or nothing about your woos.

And yet my world stopped. And stayed stopped for a really really long time. And then it moved again. Full of dare. And now I hold on to the memory of him as I hold on to a definition of myself, the best part of myself, that I do not want to ever loose.

Different times. For years I thought of living in the UK. To study. Years and years, that seemed to hold me captive. Then one day it happened and now I’m held captive here and any other reality seems elusive. Until it is all of a sudden all that exists.

I have loved. My men have hugged me dearly and told me they loved me and said it with all their hearts, starry eye-in-eye. And now they’re not here. Time has taken them. Time has reduced that feeling to a memory and my reality is void of the presence they once were. And yet when they were a presence they at a point felt not right, not warm enough right here on my toe, and I squandered it, rightly or wrongly, and now the time is gone, I don’t wake up to their SMSs or their hugs no more.

For years I lived in Edinburgh and thought one day I would have to live in London. It seemed like a distant reality. And now it’s all there is.

For a long time, I thought the highlight of my days would always be walking the dogs around the block with my husband after my coveted job. And I felt profoundly bored in my full of love harbour. Where is that now? The female dog sweetest thing ever has passed away and my ex-husband is now married to someone else and loves his children more than life itself and not even I feel like talking to him anymore.

Life has a way of reinventing itself. Of taking us from here and putting us somewhere completely different. Of stealing from us our nows to put us in our tomorrows. And if ever we are really really sad one day we wake up full of laughter again. As certain as winter returning. And rain.

Appreciate now. Don’t worry too much.


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