While we wait for something to change, something to happen, something to start, something to end.
It goes as we prepare for the day. THE day. Any day.
It goes in traffic lights and traffic jams. Hours of cars crawling to and from the place where the time just goes during wasteful meetings and wishful dreaming of being someplace else. Anyplace else.
It goes in footsteps, footfalls, walking, running. Putting distance between the time we start and time we end. The time in between just gone.
It goes in the ticks of a clock during the sleepless nights spent worrying.
Worrying about the time, and where it goes.
It disappears in errands and chores, in grocery stores. Clean up needed for time waster in aisle three.
Wasting time wanting, wishing, needing.
It goes as we try to plan a better way to spend it. As we try to find a better way. As we try to feel better.
It goes in the baby I just held, now married with babies.
It goes in the people who held me as a baby, who I now hold up as they teeter totter and wonder where their time went.
As I silently try to explain.
It just goes.
I feel this same exact way, a lot.
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