I’ve been living like the present is some shivering product of the past or a terrifying preamble for the future. Not sure where I learned to think like that, but all the fine lines, meticulous lists—situational cartography for moments that haven’t unfolded yet—keep leaving me wanting in their wake. These infinitesimal moments weren’t meant to catch and hold all of the things I try to fill them with, tucking my anxieties deep back inside them to keep safe. Too afraid of things passing quickly and never coming back again, (just don’t want to miss my chance). None of this was in the plans, that’s the reason why it rattled me. 

In the dark, I’m watching the screen flash again and again, moment after moment that I let slip by my reaching palms. I was too caught up in my maps and lists, charts and graphs to notice. The way things grow smaller and smaller as you pull away from them—all of that overwhelming energy. The lights and the colors, the little looks and movements, the sounds. I want to take it all back and do it a little better, let myself loosen up inside of it. Let it all breathe through and with me. Afford those moments the attention they deserved, the attention they earned.