There comes a time when it’s hours after midnight and the moments left are very close to dawn.
The left side of your brain is bruised from all of the logical process and your heart can do nothing but beat in a samba time and ache. When 1am turns to 2, then turns for 4:30, every statement turns to question like “How did you get here?” “Will any of this even work” and “Why on earth did I allow myself to think that this was possible?” You start to see the wrinkles, the furrow in your brow when you think, “I never asked to be brilliant. Ordinary was just not something that interested me.”
So you sit. You watch the clock inch forward. You sit watching the sun stretch its arms out over the horizon as if to stretch for a day that it knows will be far too long for its liking. You think, “I will never be done. Changing this world is thankless and some days I think I just really need a pat on the back. Because yesterday every mistake I’ve ever made was called into question and yesterday I allowed someone else’s misplaced judgment of me to be in the quest of allowing me to doubt every part of myself that I know to be absolute. So this dawn, I’m pacing my hallway.