It is probably the fever that's making me delirious, but I keep finding myself pushed between past and future, never fully in the present. I am a worrier by nature. Although I like to look at the "glass half full", I also am a "hope for the best, brace for the worse" type of person. Also, I am constantly conjecturing about the value of reminiscing. If the future has not yet arrived and the past is gone, then why is it so hard to stay fully, consciously in the present?
Since I was little, I was a planner. I plan for everything. Even things that never come to fruition. And since I was little, I looked back in time for answers on why I found myself in certain situations. My future held all my plans and my past held all my answers. That until... until I read one of my journals and life didn't unfold exactly as I had planned.
That one journal I read was filled with the tales of my first love. Ten years later, I still thought that had been a fairy tale romance. I read the journal in my own words. It was no fairy tale. I felt insecure, lied to and manipulated a lot of the time. Somehow, my imagination had changed what I thought was accurate memories. All of a sudden, to rely on the past became unreliable because some of my memories had been colored with the paints of my imagination.
And the future? How many times have I not been completely surprised by what life brought my way? My husband, who is by far one of the most important people in my world, is a good example. When I was little, I used to think I would be married with 3 kids by the time I was 25... fast forward 10 years and I am not even sure I would make a good parent.
Truth is that nothing remains but this feverish moment I have right now. The breath I took 2 minutes ago no longer exists and I may not have another breath 2 minutes from now.