I’m Afraid I’ll Never Find The Time To Fall In Love With Myself

Time will run out. And that scares me. From the second I opened my eyes for the first time, peering up at the world, a giant hourglass set into motion.

Counting the years, months, weeks, days, minutes, seconds I had until the tsunami of oblivion drowned me again.

And that scares me.

It terrifies me because the hourglass can shatter at any moment, and it will, little pieces of glass lodging themselves into the hearts of the people I love.

It terrifies me that one day, I will not wake up but the world will go on spinning just as it always had.

People will make their way to work, stopping by the coffee shop and not noticing that the little corner table is empty.

It terrifies me that I might drop dead in the middle of the day; my grande cup of caramel macchiato half-empty and my laptop screen on sleep mode. I might never get to finish that sentence I was writing, I might never get to work up the courage to wave at him and I might never get to see New York City.

But what really terrifies me the most, is that I might never get to fall in love with myself. I have been trying, you see, but I can only ever smile so much every day. And I’m so terrified that I will die without smiling enough, without laughing enough, without loving enough, and without living enough.

Because time will run out. And that scares me.