I’m on my time.

Stop comparing your timeline to someone else’s. Stop jumping in front of fate. Stop putting on your cape. Those are the words I hear from that little voice.

That voice is the biggest challenge I have because I lead with my heart. That voice and my heart are constantly at war; there is no battle because the violence between them goes beyond that.

There’s days I cannot move because it has gotten so bad between them. Meanwhile, the other parts of me just shutdown like I’m this elderly person; aches and pains from thin air, swelling from just standing, and migraines that blur my vision. It’s stress they say. STRESS.

You’re supposed to be my peace. You try to be that for me, but you aren’t trying hard enough. I see right through your convenience. Yet, the stress won’t let me be. It won’t allow me to move. The migraines don’t let me see. The throat won’t let me speak up.

This power im waiting on, it’s not coming fast enough for me. Irrational behavior seems to live in me when I get to a certain point. I’m uncomfortable now. I think it’s that time. I was so considerate of your time, that I forgot about my time. That war going on inside me forgot about the clock: my time. I don’t have another minute to spare on you.

You’re not with me in this. You watch me suffer. You watch me bleed. You coast when I’m in pain. I’m reclaiming my time. It’s my time.

Goodbye.