I have a problem with time.
About a month ago, it came to me just how little respect I have for “giving it time.” I thought I was good. I’ve been trying to get over my pseudo-romantic, but mostly self-discovering and ultimately dramatic situation in which I lost someone who was a pretty good friend. After experiencing a good weekend and beginning of the week, I was feeling…better. I made the mistake that I usually make, thinking that one good day or a few good days mean that I’m cured or healed or whatever. On that particular day, a month ago, I realized just how not good I was. I was reminded of the former friend and was made to feel completely left out and invisible and forgettable and replaceable and I wanted to crawl home and back into my bed. Instead, I called a friend, completely broke down and after calming me down, she gave me some advice, some of which I had already decided on. I started this post that day, and have only managed to revisit it now, which is interesting because I can illustrate a point. You see, I embarked on a journey to avoid the school, to go on a tour of coffee shops, to do things for myself. That lasted for about a week and a half. The consistency of it, anyway. I’m still doing bits and pieces of it, but I lost the thread of it, especially since I got caught up in something else during the course of it, but I digress. What I have failed, for years, to recognize about being healed, feeling better, and all the rest is that you have to keep doing the work. See, I make the emotionally fatal mistake of thinking that I’m okay and that I can let up on my efforts to make myself love myself. Once more, I’ve been derailed, but I know that giving it time means to continue doing the work in that time. I’ve also just realized that when you keep doing the work, you don’t have as much time to worry about how much time it’s taking. Don’t get me wrong, I make time to obsess, but I think it would be less.
I’m considering getting a tattoo that simply reads “TIME.” I still want my dancer, but I also need to be reminded of time. I need to be forced to have respect for time, and not only for itself, but for God’s time. My spirit is so impatient to be complete that it won’t give itself a chance to.