I Might Lose It

My friend Scott and I used to come home from elementary school and read comic books in his basement for hours.  Then we would go buy more at the comic book store and talk about comic books on the way there and on the way back.  The perpetual conversation was, “if you could have any superpower, what would it be?”  He would always say he wanted to fly and I would always choose super-strength…until we got a bit older and started noticing girls – then we both picked x-ray vision.

I don’t talk to Scott anymore, haven’t in twenty years.  Friendships that end in big fights are sad, but they are aren’t as tragic as the ones that end by degrees – the ones that slip away for no reason until they are past the point of revival.

And things slip away at increasing speed the older you get.  Spring and Summer feel like Monday and Tuesday, Summer bleeds into Fall while you’re stirring your coffee.

I’m doing good work these days.  Things are different than a few years back when I could hardly get out of bed in the morning.  There is purpose in every hour of the day, responsibility.  I’m managing money the way I’ve always wanted to and working 5 days a week with my idol.  People want to hear what I have to say.  I’m spending most of my waking hours talking to brilliant people, hundreds of new connections and acquaintances who are so much smarter and more interesting than I could ever hope to be.  I’m learning and hustling and failing and succeeding and I’m scared to death that it will all end.  I want this time to last forever, I need it to.  But I know it won’t and I think I just might lose it when it’s gone.

My daughter’s going to kindergarten in two weeks and my son just stopped taking naps on Wednesday.  I was at work but this is what I’ve been told.  Just out of nowhere, he’s a baby and then he’s not.  And the little girl whose crib I slept on the floor next to will be walking into a school with 12-year-olds in it.  I swear she was born yesterday.  I can’t throw away another stroller or see another garbage bag filled with the baby toys that so many of my memories are attached to.  And if I can’t stop or at least slow these kids down from growing up I think I might just lose it.

Anyway, Scott, if you’re out there and reading this, I change my answer.  I don’t want to fly or have super-strength, I just want to stop time.  Or at least slow it down.

If I can’t, I might lose it.

 

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