TIME is unforgiving.
It doesn’t ask how you are. It doesn’t pause to give you space to breathe. It doesn’t care about you.
TIME just keeps going.
Doesn’t matter if you don’t want time to pass. Doesn’t matter if you’re scared of growing up or growing old or you’re feeling like the people around you are growing old without you and you’re tripping over yourself, sprinting to keep up with them. Doesn’t matter if you never want this moment to end. Doesn’t matter if you couldn’t wait for this moment to end.
TIME doesn’t give two shits about you. It just does whatever he wants. It won’t want to listen to you moan about the beauty of childhood. It doesn’t want to hear about how you wish you could skip the next four years in hope that by then this shit we’re in will have all passed and fixed itself.
TIME is a selfish prick. It does only what he wants. It cares about only what it cares about. It listens only to itself. It’s not going to ask you how your day went. It’s not going to want to know that the sound of time passing keeps you up at night. It doesn’t want to know that you cry every new years eve just before the ball drops because you’re scared of letting the past go. It doesn’t give a shit.
So you won’t tell him.
