THE BIGGEST LIE

One of the biggest lies I tell myself is I’ll start enjoying myself—I’ll start living—once I finish this task or when that event happens. This and that. Wait. It’s almost as if my mind doesn’t want me to live my life.

What do I mean? I mean I keep trying to set myself up. I justify my struggle with an end goal. I tell myself once I finish highschool, once I graduate from university, once I find my significant other, once I start my mortgage–I’ll start living. It’s a means to an end.

I don’t want to wake up one day not having really lived my life. I don’t want to wake up one day wondering why time passed so damn fast. I don’t want to be nostalgic of a life that I never even lived.

I always tell myself I know the perfect life exists–I just need to finish everything at hand. Then I’ll be happy. I tell myself the vision of an ideal life is within my grasp—I just need to skip some pages of my story. I have become so enamoured with looking ahead that I have forgotten to live for the now.

I want to start treasuring things. I want to start treasuring every late night conversation I have, every sunset and sunrise I witness, and every opportunity I get to spend with my family and friends. Because this is it. This is my life. I better start enjoying the small moments that make me feel alive because one day I’ll be in the ground and it’ll all be over, you know?