Last night, as I was falling asleep, I remembered how I would sometimes sob, not wanting to grow up, to age, to lose the moment I was in. I remember my mom finding me in my bedroom some nights, just hysterical about the passage of time, of losing an age to the days and the months. I still have those moments. It is more than just recognizing how I have aged or recalling memories from the past. It is a physical pain, with some fear, at just where I am at in my life.
I was thinking the other day about how crazy it is that we hold onto our lives so preciously, how relatively short our existence is, and how we don't know when, where, and how we will come back. If we even do. We accrue these memories, these experiences, shape ourselves to our situations and environments and become these unique beings. It makes you want to do as much as you can, read many books, travel to many countries, help as many people as possible.
All we can do is go forward, I know, enjoy life and the moments that shape us. But there are just some moments when time feels rawer than usual.
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