what’s the rush?

October 15, 2010

“What’s the end goal? What’s your finish line?” A friend asked me yesterday after I told her about the delays in my book writing process. Why I am I rushing? Why is everything moving so fast? Why am I so focused and restless to finish my dissertation, get my book published, and work, and work and work?

My finish line is death, I told her. I need to get my work done here so I can get the right to die. I want to do it and I want to do it fast. I don’t have time to waste. Whatever my purpose for being here is, I need to fulfill it. And I need to fulfill it now. And now. Now. I still watch every day that goes by. Every day is still a day where I am separated from John. I can’t rest until I get to him. Everything I do is to work my program. For me, and to get to him. To get this life over and done with.

I know this might be scary. Maybe even morbid to some. After the tragedy, the loss of someone so magical, I can patch myself together, get on board with my purpose but I can’t forget my loss. I can’t forget how in an instance my life turned to night and I was wrenched; writhing in pain, guts bleeding on the floor. Somehow, time has allowed me to adjust to his absence, like tricking me back into the game. But I can’t forget. I’m determined to get to my finish line. As fast and as best as I can.

I wish I could take the short cut, but it seems I’m taking the long way home. I know I will get there one day. It’s just a matter of when. And in the meantime … there’s work to do.



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