By The Time I Read This Again I’ll Be 45

One thing I didn’t expect at the age of 18 was an existinential crisis. Lately I’ve been so caught up with how fast time seems to be slipping from me.

One thing that’s a constant reminder of this is my parents. I look at them now and I see time written on their skin with forming wrinkles and greying hair. And I can’t help but think of how they looked when I was 9 years old, the same age as my younger brother.

My brother and I have a 9 year difference seperating us. And I constantly think of how at his age now, he’ll always think of our dad with grey hair. Meanwhile at his age, I can still see my father the way he looked in his mid 20’s when I was 9. My brother will never know how both our parents looked like at that time. And sometimes I catch myself thinking, he will one day. But then I realize how much of a dumbass I am and that time doesn’t work that way. Our father will always be preserved in my 9 year old memories as young. I keep getting this feeling that maybe one day they’ll just look the way they did back then and I don’t know why.

But I know time just keeps moving forward, I’ve known this always. But I guess this is the first time it feels real instead of surreal.

And when I think of their age I think of mine. I remember how I couldn’t wait to be 18 for so long and now that I am it feels like years have been nothing but days. And then I get caught up in this and realize that although 45 seems like years away, there will be a day that will come where I’ll look back and it’ll feel like just days have passed since. It makes me feel like I don’t have enough time for anything anymore.

It makes me feel like my youth is already slipping from me. I can already feel the wrinkles on my face and the ache in my cracking bones. I want to be humble and say I don’t care about my youth but I don’t wanna lie. I love my youth and I really don’t want it to leave anytime soon. Not that I want to preserve my youth forever, but I feel like although I just turned 18 I’m already celebrating my 50th birthday.

And then I start thinking about how I don’t want to make choices at this age where my future self will look back on with regret. This helps me be more prudent and willing to do things I normally wouldn’t. There are also times (no pun intended) where I get excited for having the older years of my life be so close.

But most of the time I can already imagine my casket being buried tomorrow morning, or so it’ll feel like when the time comes. I know I can’t stop time or slow it down and I do wish I had more of it, but this is inevitable. And because it’s inevitable I’m just sad about it. Sad that there just isn’t enough time.

All the things I could’ve done and should’ve done if I had more time…

 

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