Carnations and Daffodils
My journey into the world begins. Never before has the clock ticked so loudly, a constant rhythm in the back of my mind. The days, now split into tidy 30 minute increments, seem so short. My planner begins at 6:30, and I manage to keep up. Lunch is at 12:30, dinner at 6:00. Meals spent in the company of family now alone or with business associates. Laughter replaced with a documentary or small talk to fill the silence. I manage to keep up. Looking at myself in the mirror, have I always looked this tired? Has my skin always been this gaunt? My eyes this sullen? My hair this thin? I promise to treat myself better, but fail to keep up.
Laying in bed, no light peeking through the curtains, the hallway dark, I try to remember summer. The bright future magnified by the warmth of the present. An easy stroll to wherever I please. Lining up at the starting line to a destination I didn’t know and didn’t choose. Losing everything but the footprints in front of me, sprinting to a destination I will never find. Barely managing to match the pace of those ahead of me, almost over the horizon. Feeling my legs give out from under me, I fail to keep up.
I learn to grow flowers.