Time

It’s funny how days fly by. They move past us at speeds faster than we can even fathom until the moments have already passed. The days that you want to hold onto and that you never want to end fly by at lightning speeds while the days that couldn't end soon enough crawl by as slow as molasses on a winter day. One day comes and goes, and then the next day follows in its footsteps, until eventually months have passed and all you have are the memories and occasional pictures. Big moments come and go, and soon the next chapter of your life is starting before you're  ready to finish the last one. Regrets set in like bad stains on your memory and pop up when least wanted. Regrets about the things you should've or shouldn't have done replay on a loop in your head, and sometimes you get stuck in that loop. swirling around and around until the sound of all your mistakes become so much that they lull you away to sleep. But the good memories, the memories that you want to hold on to forever, float away like a raft being pulled out by the tide, almost unnoticeable at first, but then shockingly obvious. We, as humans, try to hold on to these good memories like life preservers, hoping they will save us from drowning in our inevitable doomed jaded adult existence; an existence that consists of bills, jobs and eventually children, and continually, we are told we should let go, stop holding on to the past, and move on. But we can’t, or at least we think we cant. So we stay in the limbo area between letting go and holding on, uncomfortably suspended between what is best for our mental sanity and what we think is best for us. Waiting, and postponing our decision. Until we decide to let go.