past midnight

Sometimes, I think we spend a bit too much time worrying about all of the possibilities. If there is one thing in life I'm certain of, it is that we will never run out of choices. The more I grow, the more often these thoughts come into my brain. Whether the choices I am making are right, whether they are valuable. I have so much I want to do, and everything feels so small. And though I have choices, there are only so many I can make in a certain window of time. I was reading an excerpt from a (now) nameless author a few days ago, and it said something along the lines of "We say life is short, but it is the longest thing we will ever experience." I can't get it out of my mind, this idea. The idea that we are so wrapped up in the briefness of time, but in the grand scheme of it all, time is essentially the only definite and quantifiable thing we truly have to grasp. I don't think any of this is necessarily monumental, or remarkable even. The concept of time is one that has and always will live inside of us. But some nights, when it is three in the morning and you listen to the rain falling and the minutes tick by, you can't help but feel as though life is short. I think in these moments, we realize the freshness of it all. I am not convinced life is long, though I am not convinced it is too short either. Frankly, I am not quite sure I am convinced of anything, except that just like the rain on my window pane, this moment too, will move on.