I find I no longer watch her warily, knowing she’ll take herself away when I need more minutes most; or dilly dally and expend slowly, when I truly just need a break. We’ve buried the hatchet and had an honest conversation, and Time is a friend, again. There is no nagging or whinging, from Time, or me at her. We understand each other, these days.
Yet Time is with me now more than ever before. Time is a constant companion, a dear old friend whom I’ve reconnected with after many years. We’ve had our differences and I’ll admit I hated her. Finding Time treats me this way now is more warming and comforting than anything else I’ve felt from her in many ticks and tocks.
As with any relationship, Time and I will have our ebb and flow. But I cherish now these moments in our relationship where we aren’t competing or judging the other; we are coexisting. Sometimes I can’t even tell she’s here, we understand each other so well. But she always is, and I’ve come to enjoy her company.
Time is a tree growing around a headstone. Suddenly she will encircle me. But I will be like her roots, grounded yet flowing.