Sometimes

Sometimes I think I’ve lived too long. I think this but never say it out loud.

I am worried the minute I say it outloud, I will cease to exist.

It fills me with panic.

I say to the heavens “I have not lived enough yet.”

I need more time to love my kids. I need more time to lay naked with my husband entangled in his need for me. I need more time to learn, to laugh, to play.

Sometimes I think I’ve lived too long.

But I haven’t.

I never could.

@famewriter