Contrast

70

My mind is a complete haze, caught between the realms of consciousness and unconsciousness. The pain in my body is overwhelming, and I can't seem to find a foothold in reality.

"Lost . . . blood . . . too much . . ."

The sounds around me are fuzzy and the voices I heard feel distant, almost too distant to register. Everything hurts. I feel cold.

I try to cling to the fragments of my existence, to the memories of who I am and the love I hold dear. But they slip through my fingers like grains of sand. I'm losing myself, slipping away into the abyss.

"She . . . no pulse . . . we . . . revive . . ."

I'm lost. Stuck in a void with seemingly no ending. There is no light or dark, only an endless expanse of nothingness. 

"We did . . . everything . . .  injuries . . . extensive . . . swelling . . . no way . . . of . . . knowing . . ."

As the currents of time swirl around me, every passing moment feels like a whispered goodbye.

"Recommend . . . goodbye . . . while you still have. . . time . . ."

Time.

Time is a concept both complex and captivating, yet so easily overlooked. No matter how often we are told of its limited nature, we all persist in taking the time we have on this earth for granted. 

It's taken for granted every time we drift off to sleep, forgetting to utter those three cherished words to the person lying next to us. We buckle up in the car every day, casually flirting with danger under the assumption that accidents only happen to others. We postpone pursuing our passions and dreams, settling for the comfort of familiarity instead of embracing change. We surrender to the exhilarating whirl of rollercoasters and the intoxicating allure of nights out without considering the consequences. We immerse ourselves in a digital world, hours slipping away as we scroll through social media feeds, neglecting the chance to have genuine connections with the people around us. We let moments of pure beauty slip by unnoticed, oblivious to the vibrant colors of a sunset or the delicate petals of a flower.

And every morning, we awake without contemplating the possibility that it could be for the very last time. 

We then navigate each day, fueled by the overly-confident belief that tomorrow awaits; convinced that our time here is continuous and the people we love will always be there to embrace us when we open our eyes.

Yet, how could we think otherwise? Wouldn't it be rather morbid to awaken each day, gripped with anxiety by the idea that it could be our last?

The last sunrise?

The last embrace?

The last kiss?

The last laugh?

The last chance to say I love you?

To entertain such dark thoughts on a daily basis seems depressing, so much so it is unfathomable. Most people choose to focus on what time there is to be gained in life, rather than what time there is to be lost. And I am one of those people. 

Because ever since the day Blake Andrews became mine, the idea of one day losing him never crossed my mind. 

What force on this earth could possibly be strong enough to tear us apart? Surely a force that could turn around time and reverse what has been done, but that is, of course, simply fantasy. 

Admittedly, I may have taken our time together for granted. It was inconceivable to envision a world without him— a world devoid of his perfect morning kisses and professions of love. It was effortless to lose myself in a timeless journey of love and passion when such a remarkable soul accompanied me.