Every day I ask the same question: why does time move so fast?
I don’t always think that it’s time that moves so fast, but I push it by.
I always rely on the theory that “I’ll have time.” I sit and waste away, pushing to do things later because I have so much time. Whether I know it or not, every time I excuse that I have time, the time ticks by faster.
I waste my time doom-scrolling, panicking, planning, procrastinating, and staring at a wall, wondering why I put myself in such difficult positions. Yet, after time passes, all I want is for it back.
In fourth grade, I decided I never wanted to grow up. I hate conflict, major responsibilities, and so much more, which easily aligns with the realities of growing up. I can’t allow myself to fathom that in a few months I’ll be alone in a dorm, and I have no clue where I will end up. Every time I think I still have so much time left, it flies by, and I’m pushed to another “last.” I’m left in a constant fear of the future and the unknown.
I try to reassure myself and plan for what I have left. I have one more Christmas, two more school dances, eight more competitions, one more recital, one more full semester, and a full summer at home and out of high school. Every time I plan, it almost makes it worse. The reassuring feeling washes away, and I’m left realizing that I’ve wasted so much time already.
Things start to fall behind like friendships, work, and tidiness, yet I continue to claim I still have time. It’s almost as if I am trying to convince myself that everything is ok when, in all honesty, I am falling apart piece by piece, wishing time could just stop. Still, every moment I tell myself I have time, or I’ll deal with reality later.
I’m starting to recognize the impending doom I’ve launched upon myself. College is only eight months away; not still, only. I only have eight months to figure out my life, get on track, and be ready to live on my own. Only six months with the same people I’ve surrounded myself with since kindergarten, only four more months as a legal child. I realize how fast time is moving, and there is nothing in me to stop it. I can’t continue to claim that I have time because it only doubles the speed of things now.
Will time slow if I wish for it to go faster? Probably not, but it’s the only hope I have for myself.
I know I’m just going to keep pushing time unintentionally. I wish I could go back to all the times when I was little, where I dreamed of growing up and decorating a dorm room, or even for Christmas to come faster. Yet, reality hits, and I know a moment can’t last forever, no matter how much I wish it could.
