Time

Every now and then, an old feeling comes rushing back to me. It's usually accompanied by a memory. I'm at Algonquin Park, the epicenter of all things beautiful, serene, and filled with love. I'm running, something I had never made time for up there before this day. Eating, drinking, laughing, talking...these things always took precedence. But I went out and hit the dirt road. The bugs were violent and ugly. I was sweaty and bloody when it was over. But the most amazing thing happened on that run.

I came to the realization that there was time for everything.

I've shared this before but it bears repeating. After a long talk with Nathan about the state of our lives, it became very apparent that time is a figment of my imagination. There is time for everything.

At the start of any long road, the end looks eons away. At the end of every road, the next journey seems foreign, exhilarating, and terrifying.

But it's just a road. It's just a journey. Eventually everything becomes mundane; routine; normal. Eventually we fit right in and we wonder how we lived any other way.

It's like the new sweater we buy. After a week, we ask, "how did I ever have a wardrobe without this sweater?" But somehow, we managed. We met with friends, ran errands, went to bars, flirted with men, and managed to work a full day without that sweater. I'm a sweater. My life is a sweater. My next life will be a sweater too.

There is time for everything.