Tomorrows...

Ever had that feeling, that the only thing in front of you was empty space? Not just in a manner of standing at the edge of a precipice… but more like… there was to be nothing beyond where you were.

Ever felt… that… all had been said and done. Felt that… there was nothing more to be seen… to be experienced?

Imagine that sense of… completion, to be your permanent companion… to never have to feel that things were lying unfinished. Sounds practically glorious… relieving doesn’t it?

I know that you suffer, just like me, from continuous pangs that make us review what we may have been through. To think back, over and over again, to what lies in the past. To ponder if everything was settled as it should have been, or if there was more to come….

What I don’t know about you… is whether you hate that feeling nearly as much as I do.

Just like a half read book, or a partially watched movie… the sense of leaving things… unfinished, seems unbearable to me. I hate being unsure about what comes next… give me a sense of finality over a lingering doubt any day….

Hanging by a thread… filled with expectations, hopes and dreads… don’t sit well with me… in all matters… from following a sitcom… to life itself.

Perhaps it is this then… that leads me to never see a future for myself. To always assume… that there isn’t going to be any tomorrows….

Each new day comes as a surprise… each new evening is a bit… unexpected. I plod along through each day knowing full well, that it may be my last. Sometimes even hoping that this might be the case….

In all my life, I never thought for even a single second… about any kind of distant future. I space out all the while… but my musings are always firmly anchored in the present. Forget growing old… I never even fantasize about what might happen next week.

I don’t want a future… I want an eternal present… for things tomorrow, if I see one that is, to be the same as they were today.

I never want to look back on these days… from far away… over the thickening mist that time will surely bring.

I don’t want to fade from my own memory….

I don’t want long life… I don’t want to grow old. I want to go, while in my prime… I want to leave in the best possible shape. I never want to watch myself weakening… to see my skin wrinkle or my eyes to dull.

I don’t want to stick around for so long that others may also long for me to leave… I want to leave when I will be most missed…. I am scared of waking up one day and finding… that I can no longer run as fast as I could yesterday… scared of realizing… that time has put my best, behind me.

I am scared that perhaps today… was the best I’ll ever be….

I don’t long for oblivion… not exactly. It’s just that… all the doubts, all the alternatives… all the unanswered questions… seem overwhelming.

What if… this really is the time of my life… what if this… is as good as things are likely to get?

And with that thought… that very probable possibility… I would rather that I went off on a high note. The highest it would ever get for me.

Perhaps this entire ideology is stupid and immature… perhaps… I am just scared of an impending failure….

But, tell me honestly… does anyone really crave change? Then we wouldn’t hang on so tenaciously to the things of today would we? Does anyone want to be reduced to a level of inferiority to ones own former grandeur? Does anyone want to rot… or want the tide of their prime to ebb?

Thrill seekers or daredevils there are many among us… leaping towards uncertainty for the sheer rush it brings…. Their success is no doubt sweet… their failures even for having taken the plunge.

But don’t even these… supermen… look back and wish to return…? Do they also not wish… that their yester-years had lasted forever… lasted their lives?

Just for this… I want my present to become all that I’ll ever know… and hope that the time never comes for me to look back with nostalgia on the fair things that I see everyday, here in my beautiful present.

My only consolation… is the sure knowledge… that I am closer to my wish coming true than I was… yesterday.