Tuesday, 24 May 2011

A Letter to Time

Dear Time,

I've got your number. The devious tricks you play.

When you're not around I feel like an addict, crawling the floor, walls, in desperation; frustrations tearing at skin, the fear a rapid scrape against my chest. When will he be back? I wonder. I just need you for a little longer, an hour will do.

But you never come.

There are moments when you languish on hands, of clock and human, a slow decay of seconds and minutes, of possibilities. Moments which consume to drown me in awareness. In these, I hate you. I do not like the awareness of time; the tick tock sound of a clock. It's an unyielding reminder, a warning, of life slipping past. At once, I am filled with guilt, regret, for all the things I could be doing, all the things I should have done when I had the chance; when we had the chance.

But I never did.

And it annoys me, time. They speak of you as some magical creature with the ability to eradicate all the bad memories, the unwanted details. As if you are a giant eraser that we may use to clear our page, to wipe clean our slate. But no matter how many times one starts over, we can still see the faint outline of what used to be. No matter how clear it looks to the outside eye, we know it's there. 

They say you are a great healer. That as you pass, the wound mends. But everyone forgets that all wounds, however small, leave a scar. Red and raised, though it may fade, it is always there. No one ever says anything about that.

Some days you seem like an instrument of torture; an endless stretch of suffering. And then there are those days when I reflect on all those moments you afforded over the years; the shared smiles, birthdays, weddings, graduations, parties and friends. The minutes spent watching the sun rise over the Grand Canyon and the catch of my breath that followed, the seconds before my first kiss when I forgot that everyone else existed. They are an accumulation of wondrous, unforgettable things that only you could provide.

I've had enough of you and yet, somehow, I will never have enough. 

Forever Yours,


  1. So very true. Time is precious.

  2. I tried to leave a comment here, days ago, but Blogger would not let me do it -- some kind of a bug, I'm told. Here's another try: This piece is you at your poetic best. It makes one think while allowing one to simultaneously enjoy the music. To me that is the essence of your talent. I will come back and read it again. I hope this comment gets through.

  3. had same problemz as Bruce, cudnt post comment. I love this. Awesomely wonderfully super.

  4. Kate: Thanks for taking the time to stop by.

    Bruce: I had difficulty leaving blog comments earlier this week too, so no worries. I have received your lovely comment now. Thank you. It really made me smile.

    Anon: Thank you. Your comment made me smile too. I don't think I've ever been told my writing is 'awesomely wonderfully super' before. hehe :)

  5. Oh man, Lou. Excellent. I was pulled in as I read. This is one of the best pieces I've seen you write.

    Especially the time healing wounds. The scar is always there. Lou, awesome. You need to submit this somewhere.

    How's the book coming? I've been sick. So not visiting as much. But I have made a promise to get over here more. (((hugs)))

  6. I remember I couldn't wait to grow up like the girls in more senior classes. Oh how we have to be careful what we wish for!

  7. Have to disagree here though... If ever you feel that a scar remains, it means you haven't trully gotten over it (in other words it is possible to be completely rid of the scar).
    It just depends on how good is your closure.

  8. Robyn: Thanks so much! 1st draft of book is actually done but I've been editing it. Taking some time away from it at the moment; it's such a time-consuming headache-inducing process.

    Sarah: I know what you mean. I wished for so many things when I was younger. 'I can't wait to be 21' and now I'm five years down the line from that. Scary!

    Jason: Thanks for stopping by. With regards to the 'scar' I guess that is what I meant. People always say that time heals but what I was trying to say is that it doesn't always. That's my point.

  9. What a great post! It's so true - some days it does just feel like an "instrument of torture".. perfectly worded!

    xo katie elizabeth

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