When I was younger
I would set an alarm for four in the morning
because I knew no one else would be awake
I wanted to own my decisions without influence
I would wake up at four in the morning and I would ask myself,
Is this the day?
I always wondered when it was the right time, if there was ever a right time
I would look at the counter, the bottles strewn across the shelves, of every variety
wondering what the correct combination was
knowing that if I chose the incorrect combination,
I would not longer get to spend four am’s by myself
I would stare at them for hours, pondering the thought
wondering if there was a better day to make this choice
But is there ever a correct time to decide when it’s time?
Sometimes, I would try a few
just to see what it was like to come close to that time
and my mind would be foggy for the following hours
attempting to decide if it should stay present or if it should put itself to rest
and my bed would become a beacon of passage into the other side
over and over and over again
would I see the light
I would play Coldplay songs, over and over again
hoping that maybe I would find a lyric that would change my mind or make things better
and I never did
but somehow, I never felt like running towards the light
There was always this gut feeling when I chanced a minor combination
that there was something worth holding out for
that there was something in the lyrics of Coldplay’s music that would
guide me out of this obligatory dance I did with my mind every early morning
There had to be hope for something, there had to be hope for something
And one day, the shelves no longer had an appeal
and my bed no longer felt safe enough to test waters no one knew
and a lyric from one of Coldplay’s songs told me to carry on.
So I did.
The four am dancing discontinued and I never looked at the pale prescription shelves again
and when I am in my darkest of states,
I remember the feelings of lightly touching the other side,
knowing that maybe, it isn’t quite time to finish the samba I had with the unknown.
At least not on my terms
There is always hope
always hope to continue dancing with what is known.
This piece has been published on Thought Catalog. You can view the published version here.