Time. It’s this strange thing that continually moves forward. In my experience it is constant though I have been told it is not. Every hour is 60 minutes, and every minute is 60 seconds. And, every second that passes is propelling me forward into the next second. Attempting to stop time is like standing on a beach trying to hold back the waves. The water just keeps pouring over you and disappearing just as seconds flood your life and then are gone.
It’s not November. It’s February. And, between November and February many things have happened. Some monumental. Some mundane. All working together to shape and form and change me. I am not who I was in November. It’s February, and I couldn’t go back even if I wanted to.
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