Moments

I watched the sunset tonight. Dropped a teabag into a mug printed with images of Santa Claus, ignoring the fact that it was almost April. Crisp evening air greeted my bare ankles as I pulled up a garden chair; the ones made out of plastic that everyone pretends are uncomfortable. I could have sat there for hours. But the sunset didn’t last that long.

Pastel pink paint strokes stood out against the twilight sky. And for a minute, everything was still. Birds tightened their beaks, fresh springtime leaves refrained from rustling, every car engine silenced its roar. I was alone in a crowded world. Breathe, I told myself. For a minute, I let my mind wander, let my thoughts whirl like the very first rollercoaster my father took me on for my seventh birthday. In the garden, that minute turned into two, and then three, and then it slipped through my fingers like the sand did on my first date with a boy I thought I would love forever. He stopped my world from spinning with his own two hands. They used to hold mine so tight. But the boyfriend left and the relationship ended, just like the sunset.

Because that’s the thing. Nothing is forever. Moments come and moments go and life doesn’t come with a rewind button. So on those days when all you want is to bury yourself under the covers, listen to Coldplay’s Fix You, and wait for it all to be over, remember that the world does keep spinning. And on those days where your cheeks are stained with warm kisses and the tide tickles your toes and you can’t stop wondering how you ever got so lucky, cherish it. Because even when the moment passes, disappears into what feels like thin air, you’ll know that you were, that you are, alive. And every single moment is worth it.