You never feel like enough.
Sorry. Rough opener.
But you don’t. You feel like you’re standstill when I kiss my lover or when I hear devastating news. You can feel like a bullet train when I’m inspired or distracted. I can feel your seconds stretch and lengthen when I am forced to wait.
I’ve always been an impatient person. (I am self-aware.) But nothing has ever tested me more than you. I’ve always wanted to be older, only to want to travel back to youth that I didn’t relish enough. You bring the growing pains of life, new responsibilities, and constant expectations.
You bring the scythe of death whenever you please and it makes me fill with rage. You weren’t enough for me and them. All of them.
I wish I could own you, but I cannot. I wish I could control you, but I cannot. I wish I could barter with you, but I cannot.
I’ve spent so much of my life, my time, thinking about you. In the past and what you could possibly bring in the future. Fretting that I wasn’t using you wisely or effectively, only to freeze myself into inaction. You’ve driven me to insomnia, panic, procrastination, tardiness.
It feels like you steal things from me. Potential, opportunity, time. Very rarely it feels like you give me space. A place to breathe. Our relationship has pushed me to avoid things that are a ‘waste of time’, when in reality they are the opposite.
There’s not enough time to read every book, see every movie. The pain of that haunts me. There’s not enough time to relish with ease. I try to control you with alarms, reminders, and multiple calendars. My biological clock ticks, my life lurches into different chapters that I’m never ready for.
I understand that our relationship is not a one-way street. I know that I blame you for many things that are probably outcomes of my own volition. I don’t want to be bitter. You aren’t exactly the easiest to navigate.
I just want to bend you, have you meet me halfway. Can you teach me your ways? The epicness of where you begin and where you end. Can you teach me to relish and drink up every moment? Instead of worrying about every possible threat or regret?
I want to be present in time. It’s something I don’t think I’ve ever really been able to do. If anything, it is my only regret. That I wasn’t more present for most of my life. Preoccupied with my time.
I want to be present in unbridled joy. Present in the vastness of love. You remind me to be present when I’m in pain, that’s for certain. Is that your lesson? But my pain is usually caused by you. Because what you gifted me didn’t seem like enough.
I want to be present. My wedding is soon. I’d like my mind to be in the depths of that day when it happens. I’d like to relish our future, even our hardships.
I cherish my friends. I want to be in the moment when my friends need me, or in our shared laughter. I’d rather make memories that way.
I want to be in a group, brainstorming. Bouncing off one another into a brighter moment or idea, but that could only manifest with that collection of people in that moment in time.
Someday, I’ll probably have children. I want to be entrenched in every minute of their growth, meeting them where they are. Teaching them about time. Not to repeat my mistakes of my preoccupation with you.
You are precious, and that’s why you don’t feel like enough. You are my deepest desire and what I hold most valuable. I want to harness you like a genie in a bottle. I crave you.
You give me twenty four hours in a day. And more often than not, it often doesn’t feel like enough. But you also give me seconds that feel endless. Weeks that disappear, and memories etched into my eyes. You last as long as a song, but live as long as stone.
I’m sorry that I want more of you. More than you can probably give.
You are enough. Just please, teach me you are.
Time is very time-consuming itself and not many others can be patient with a timer that times itself. I used to be very impatient when it came to things and I used to move faster than time and always wanted to be ahead of it. Just like you, I went through ups and downs when it came to being impatient I learned how to wait because even time waits for itself.