The function and concept of time have always been complex thoughts that I find myself constantly pondering. In every definition, time passing has concerned me as it unapologetically urged the future closer to reality.

It had always felt as though it was me against time, against the future approaching sooner than I could grasp. My childhood was slipping through my fingers, and my brain could not comprehend what life has in store for me outside of the bubble I have safely secured myself in for the past seventeen years. 

While my mind was elsewhere, my unscheduled future promised me I could stay fifteen, sixteen, and now, seventeen for as long as I pleased.

It lied.

Living in the moment was complex after this realization; I can no longer live in the moment when I have an unplanned future awaiting my undivided attention.

Although, I still find myself questioning time without fear as well.

Why does time pass by rapidly when I want to stay in a moment, but slow to a stop when I wish something would end?

 I find myself asking my friends if they feel this way and if time is as fascinating to them as it is to me, but I can not seem to find anyone as passionate about the matter.

How can no one else care that everything is moving faster than we can process?

Now, I realize spending my precious time contemplating such a trivial matter may sound doltish, but the thought of time passing while I’m not conscious of it was keeping me up at night. It was me battling time, pushing back against its constant reminders that all I have ever known would be altered.

Each day feels shorter, each month feels rapid, and each minute is spent contemplating the severity of my minor mental crisis. Although, this is only one era ending, leading me to another which will eventually end as well.

I have learned to grow and flourish with each minute that passes, and while I still scrutinize time and its rapid passing, I have learned to flow with it rather than against it. It is still a subject I ponder constantly, but not as negatively as I previously did. 

I will soon adapt to the fact that my life will constantly consist of ends and beginnings no matter how hard I push back because I, unfortunately, cannot stop the natural flow of time.

Time is still fascinating to me, but within different means, I have learned to treasure time and value its essence, whether it feels as though it is soaring past me in a moment I wish I could relive forever, or if it is dragging itself out within the most painful memories I could imagine.

I have reconstructed the wires in my brain that previously viewed the passage of time as such a mystery, and now I exist within the terms of time rather than against them.