It’s on my side.
Sure it is.
Am I the only one who gets the urge to sock Mick in the nose upon hearing that lyric? But then I remember he was young and invincible when he wrote it. So, instead, I just want to hand him a grilled cheese sandwich and a pamphlet on the hazards of smoking.
Listen, I’m a forgiving soul. I’m a thoughtful person. Heck, I’ve even been told I have the patience of a saint on more than one occasion. But time? The reality of it. The elusiveness. The constant reminder of it running out. Pardon my French, but time really pisses me off. Some—times.
Maybe the alarm went off a little too early this morning.
I’m not bitter.
I’m sure it’ll all come into focus.
I just need a little more…
Until then, time will continue to mock me. It’ll provide every vantage point I need to see clearly. But only in the rearview mirror. It’ll teach every lesson I’ll ever need to learn. But only after falling on my face. And it’ll heal all my wounds. But only after inflicting them first.
Yeah, time’s a real sonofabitch.
Until it isn’t.
Because it also comes with a promise.
Time comes with a promise of change. A promise that no matter what you think of the time you have today, it’ll look different tomorrow. Time keeps its eye on the big picture. It’s not particularly interested in how the sausage is made. Only that it is.
So, that loneliness that consumes you? It’ll flirt with companionship. Or that indecision that paralyzes you? It’ll battle with purpose. Even that guilt that haunts you? It’ll dance with forgiveness. Because time won’t let things stay the same. No matter how much you fight it.
Time just keeps moving.
Moving along; singing its song.
And you can whistle.
Or you can hum.
Just as long as you find your pace.