Time spilled

from times perspective day (14/ 30)

When the clock breaks, what spills out isn’t pretty. It’s not gold or light. It’s the life you were supposed to live.

Look at it. Go on, look.
See that? That’s the trip you talked about for years but never took. That’s the person who cared about you before you decided it was safer not to care back. That’s every half-finished project, every “I’ll do it later.” Later never showed up, did it?

You said you didn’t have time. But you did. I gave you plenty. What you didn’t have was courage.

Do you remember all those mornings I handed you, clean and brand new? You scrolled through them. You stared out the window and told yourself tomorrow would be different. And I waited. Every time, I waited for you to show up.

Do you know what it’s like, watching someone waste you? Watching them treat you like an inconvenience when all you ever wanted was to be used for something meaningful?

You always said you were scared. Scared of what people might think, scared to fail, scared to want too much. You thought being careful would save you. But it didn’t. It just built you a smaller life.

Now look around. This is what’s left. All those unlived hours, spilled across the floor. You can’t pick them up. You can’t make them new again.

So tell me, what did you think was going to happen?
Did you think I’d wait forever?
Because I won’t. I never have.

And when I go quiet, when there’s nothing left ticking, you’ll finally understand:
I wasn’t wasting you.
You were wasting me.