Time. The one aspect of life that seems to go on, unceasingly, without regard to anything that we humans do in our petty lives. Yet, we define ourselves based on time. From when you would like to meet your friend at a coffee shop, to how old you are, to what you will be doing in the distant future - we seem to view our lives through the lens of time.
But what of time? What does it teach us? Does it lead us somewhere, or is it merely an innocent bystander as we go about our lives?
I turned 28 recently, an age where I should have gone past the teenage angst. Should have matured into a young man - capable of going through life without the hand-holds that have guided my path until here. Yet, I feel adrift. Lost. This is my attempt to understand this emotion, and maybe crystallize it for future reminiscing.
It seems like my whole life has been a case of the world telling me where to put my feet, and me obliging without a protest. At first, it was the parents, who did the best they could. Then, I just seem to have been buffetted by the winds of fate, as it were. My choices seem to have been entirely decided by the path of least resistance.
Does everyone go through life like this? I doubt it. There are those who take the bull by the horns, and search within themselves before coming to any decision worthy of note. Not I.
Now that I have reached a point where the going is tough - there are many unanswered questions in my future, and every passing day merely makes me more aware that these questions are unanswered - I find myself unsure of where to put my feet. The choices I make today will, no doubt, have repercussions in the future, but the magnitude of those repercussions is beginning to frighten me.
Does everyone feel this way? Is fear a natural part of living, or is this something only a few people have in common?
I am certainly more introspective than your average person. I enjoy revelling in my own misery - this is something I learnt a long time ago. But I always assumed that with time, I would learn to deal with such misery better. It appears not to be the case.
Time has taught me, though, that with every passing year, while the source of the misery changes, the depth of the emotion seems to remain the same. It seems, now, that my troubles are worse than they have ever been, but the logical side of me knows that that is not true.
Will this help me deal with the troubles I have now, and surely will have in the future? Not entirely, I don't think - but it will allow me some perspective. I am, even now, in the nadir of a black mood, capable of isolating myself from myself - seeing that I am merely looking at the cup half empty.
Time has also taught me to reach out to those close to me at times like this. While I try, and sometimes fail, to do so - it seems that Time has also taken away so much innocence that it makes it that much harder to call people "close".
I do know that this is common to a lot of people though - so I feel a little bit better about myself. I often hear complaints from people about how many fewer friends they have now than they did in their heady college days.
Time has taught me to cherish the friends that I do have, and there is a lot to be said for that. Maybe these are the new hand-holds of life - not the tangible ones, but the ones in your head. You learn, with time, where the pitfalls are, who to trust, and who not to. Is this knowledge all that we have to take away from 28 years of wasting oxygen?
It appears so.