Swept Away
It’s been a month since I moved to Cambridge, and I haven’t been to the supermarket once. I’ve hardly been in my flat except to sleep, and even then it’s been fleeting. I’ve forgotten what my flatmate looks like and I haven’t even finished unpacking. There’s going to be no point soon, because in just under four months I’ll be gone.
I seem to spend my whole life rushing from one place to the next. Got to get here, got to see them, got to do this.
I have lost all perspective. I burst into tears at the slightest provocation. Sometimes I look down on myself from a height, and see myself blindly hurrying, wrapped in a cloud of worry, and I wonder what happened to the real me.
Please, please can I have a bit of time? Is it too much to ask that my life not slip through my fingers in an unstoppable flood of wasted hours and seconds? For what do I spend four hours a day in the company of strangers on a train? For what do I go to bed one minute and get up the next as the unstoppable days rush through the millwheel, and drift off into the tranquil landscape of the past?
I want some time to appreciate my time in Cambridge with the BF before I go. Some memories of a summer without stress would be precious.
Does anyone know how to stop time?