Let’s Make Up For Lost Time

Maybe we haven’t had the privilege of knowing one another all our lives. Maybe our worlds ran parallel, dreams and jobs and homes on opposite ends of the earth. Maybe we’ve fallen for other lovers, or lived wildly, in chase of people and places and ideas we had spinning in our minds since we were children. Maybe we weren’t quite sure where we were headed, just walking forward, hoping we’d somehow figure it out as we go. Maybe we’ve lost so many years, so many moments, so many minutes we’ll never get back.

But baby, let’s make up for lost time.

Let’s trace back through the alleys and roads, the gravel paths where we wore holes in our shoes. Let’s run through the forests and cities, reaching our palms to the sky. Let’s dance under the light of a midnight moon, telling stories of the places we’ve been, the worlds we’ve lived without one another.

And instead of wishing for what we could have been, let’s celebrate what we are.

Take my hand and guide me through your past. Show me the parks and playgrounds of your childhood, the hallways of the high school where you had your very first kiss. Spin me down the sidewalk in front of your teenage house; remind me of the boy you used to be, still learning to become a man.

Erase the distance and space between us and fill me with a picture of you.

And I’ll do the same.

I’ll play you my favorite songs, tell you where and who I was when I first heard them. I’ll take you to the top of the hill with the ocean view, to the birch tree in front of my parents’ house where I first climbed and started to write. I’ll bring you to my favorite little restaurant by the city with the deep dish pizza they cook in bowls, so deliciously melted you can’t help but lick your fingers.

When you close your eyes, I’ll share every story you’ve missed out on. I’ll relive the moments that you couldn’t be there for, and we’ll experience them over again. Together this time.

Let’s make up for lost time. Stop wishing for what we could have been, what we should have done, but hold one another’s hands until we fall asleep, kiss until our lips are raw, hug until we can’t breathe and are forced to let go and rest our heads side-by-side, watching the clouds float lazily above us.

Let’s dance until our feet hurt, board planes and trains and make our own memories. Let’s meet one another’s friends and family, listen as they fill the holes from the years that have passed. Let’s explore. Let’s dream. Let’s carve spaces in our hearts for one another, replacing every bit of emptiness with warmth and gentleness and passion.

Let’s love one another so well, the past doesn’t matter so much anymore.

See, we could spend our entire lives looking back, thinking with regret at all the times we weren’t there, didn’t love, weren’t enough. We can cry over the broken hearts, the dead-end relationships, the moments of despair that we couldn’t lift one another out of.

Or we could learn, and let go. Discover all that we can and then watch it fade in the rear view as we drive down a new road, filled with promise and hope.

Let’s love each other wildly, loudly, fully, fearlessly, not wasting a single minute this time.

Because this life is too damn short.
And I can’t bear to lose out on another moment with you.

Marisa Donnelly is a poet and author of the book, Somewhere on a Highway, available here.