Every day, I wake up in bed, slap my blaring alarm, and wish I could go back to sleeping like a dead person.
Every day, I brush my teeth and my hair, which is frizzy from sleeping.
Every day, I scour through my closet and settle for an outfit composed of fair-fitting clothes.
Every day, I rush to pack my bag, get my keys, and lock the door.
Every day, I kiss my parents goodbye and tell them I’ll love them forevermore.
Every day, I come and go. And then, every day comes and goes.
Every day becomes every day.
Every day, since I learned to walk. Every day, since I learned to talk.
Every day, a little more time. Every day, a little less time. Every day, a little older than the next.
Every day, where did you go?
Every day, where do I go?
Every day, gone; and yet, continuing forevermore.
Every day, every day, every day.
God, I wish you’d just stop!
Stop.
Stop….
But, there is no way to stop the clock, no magical spell to recite or incantation to spew. No enchanted apple to chew that will let me drift into a timeless dreamscape. No fairy godmother that’ll whisk me away from reality.
Time marches on, and on, and on, through births, deaths, birthday parties, and SAT preps.
It seems like it was only yesterday that I was a freshman in the halls. The fledgling, the new kid, the girl whose school days seemed endless and who couldn’t wait to escape these walls.
The girl whose brothers drove her around and whose days would end in an amalgamation of brotherly bickering and pop-country songs.
The final days of summer, the chilling breath of fall, the frozen hug of winter, and the waking of spring. I’ve seen the seasons, in all their numerous shades, pass through the windows like cartoons on a TV screen.
I’ve entered the school through every door, I’ve been placed with friends, and then, I’ve been separated from them again.
Years have gone by, and yet, it feels like nothing in me has changed.
Maybe, I don’t want it to change.
But life—the every day—is going to make it change.
Exchange for living is lost.
Exchange for time is a never-ending cost.
I’ve been living the every day.
And I’ll continue it.
Every day, I’ll wake up in bed, slap my blaring alarm, and wish I could go back to sleeping like a dead person.
Every day, I brush my teeth and my hair, frizzy from sleeping.
Every day, I’ll live because I wish to always be here.