it's of the essence.

Dear Time,

I don’t get you. I really don’t. You seem to be a little confused, if I’m being brutally honest, and I thought I’d take this opportunity to point out how you’re doing it wrong (people love that).

Now, don’t let this go to your head but I’ve been thinking about you a lot. And I think the problem is that you’re too empathetic. You want to feel the way that I’m feeling so you end up mirroring where I’m at instead of trying to balance things out. This is not necessary, dear Time.

You see, when I’m having fun, I need you to put your cape away. I know there’s something in you that makes you want to just soar when I’m having a good time—but I’m gonna need you to chill out in those moments—these are the times when I need you to drag your feet.

You know when I don’t need you to drag your feet? When I’m heartbroken. When I don’t get what God is doing. When it’s 3pm on a workday. When I have to pee and it’s 40 miles to the next gas station. Those are the times when I need you to do your make-days-seem-like-minutes bit.

I feel like I spend my life waiting for you to pull back curtains and show me what you’re up to—and you seem to drag that process out until I actually forget that I’m waiting for you. That’s your proudest moment isn’t it? When one day I wake up and realize that I don’t need you any more—I no longer yearn for you to heal and I no longer yearn for you to tell—because you’ve already done it with a subtlety only you can achieve.

So, I guess what I’m saying is… you’re unpredictable and I’m impatient…I'm trying to pin you down and you're trying to be illusive...and I wish that one of those variables were different. But, seeing as here on this earth we play by your rules, I guess it's me that needs to change, you stinker. So here's what I've decided--I’m going to trust that you know what you’re doing. After all, you have yet to let me down. So cheers to you, dear Time, that's quite the power you've got. Use it wisely will you?