Waiting Time

For a roller coaster. For the bathroom. For your brother’s clothes, your father’s hand, and your mother’s ear. For nap time. For a snack. For work, for the weekend, and then for sleep. For that first date. For the kiss. For the random moment when the heartache becomes bearable enough. For all the heartaches after. For sweat to dry. For purpose to expose itself. For dinner to cook, the laundry to dry, and your dream job to fall into your lap. When will you receive your chance? Waiting Time: when the things you want to do want to be done by people further ahead in line than you.

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Regret Time

She won’t fall in love with you. She’s not ready. You know she’s not ready, so you don’t ask. Instead, you go back in time to fix her. Prevent the all-nighter she pulled with a friend who would become more than a friend. Stop her from taking that shot, and then five more, so that she won’t wake up with that body-builder guy who isn’t you. You have one shot to stop six shots. Let her kiss that girl, because she’s allowed to know what that’s like, but don’t let her tell you the rest. Don’t let her tell you that she met a guy that night, another guy, some fun guy, and he still isn’t you. Travel back in time to before all of that and ask her on a date. She might say yes. Sometimes she says yes, but she’s noncommittal in her youth. So stay in your current time and ask her why she won’t be with you. Why won’t she love you? Because, you know she’ll say, that’s not her choice. Regret Time: when you realize that you never neglected but that you also never chose to spend your entire life up until now building a time machine.

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Bed Time

His chest is her pillow and she’s sound asleep while he’s wide awake. His heartbeat is her lullaby. Her breathing, that steady, soft, easy breathing is his racket. Too loud. He can’t sleep. Hearing her, oh, he doesn’t hear her with his ears, which makes the entire sleeping situation a paradoxical problem, because his heart beats fast, which lulls her to sleep, and her sleeping produces her faux-loud breathing, which he hears, but not with his ears, but with his heart, and the sound excites him, speeds up his heart, and so his heart beats fast, and thus the circle of sleep goes around and around and around, with her sleeping and him lying awake and wondering if they’re really just friends. Can she hear his heart like that and not feel more than friends? Can he lie awake and lie in the morning? Tell her he slept like a baby. So did she. Bed Time: when time passes relative to how awake you need to be to dream.


Awkward Time

Tell her because it means a lot to you. You know she won’t like it, but maybe she’ll like it. She doesn’t know that she’ll learn to like it. Besides, you’re being honest, and the honest route is a virtuous path. Don’t tell her that you follow a virtuous path because that will sound pretentious. Take a deep breath, look her in the eye, and tell her, “I got your name tattooed over my heart.” You might get a second date. Awkward Time: when your gut tells you time and again not to do it, but passion pushes you in the wrong direction, and then some.

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Potty Time

You could sit and read a book. The newspaper. Do a crossword puzzle. You know, get a little culture. Work the brain a bit. You could even think. Yes, just sit and think. Talk to yourself. Explore yourself. Your soul. What is the soul? What is your soul? Is the soul a what or a who? Instead you play games on your phone, listen to music, or watch videos. So many videos. Or maybe you just sit there, but you think about nothing. Or only the things that stress you out. Just you, a porcelain perch, and a growing pile of shit. Potty Time: when you choose how to let your time go to waste.

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Seduction Time

When a man spies a beautiful woman his world morphs into a form of heaven with blinders. There stands the goddess atop her cloud and with a golden spotlight enshrining her as a beacon of hope. Perhaps he can have her. Is she single? If she’s single and he gets to know her, maybe he can have her. The motivation is sex. Maybe not sex, but a desire to be with her. Physical. Not to be friends with her. Emotional. If he really met her, as in got to know her and listened to her, he would realize that just because she’s pretty and has lots of friends does not mean that she does not feel alone, and that she feels alone because like every stupid guy she meets eventually wants something more than to be friends. She cannot find one male who she can just be friends with. She thought that could change with him, but why does it have to be him who she finally decides that things can be different with? Seduction Time: deciding that friendship isn’t worth your time because your pants can’t stop reaching for the clouds.

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Football Time

Men learn to love by watching football. While they share beer, food, and chest bumps, their favorite athletes sprint, grab, and yell at their teammates to tackle. Make the damn tackle! Hug that man to the ground! Hug? Hugs don’t exist in football. Do they? The embrace is an accident. A mere attempt to pull another man to the Earth in order to win a game. To earn a paycheck. To have someone to hold. No, you do not play football to have someone to hold. But is that why you watch football? Football Time: for the times when you’re too man to admit that you want to watch a romantic comedy.

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Water Time

This is not to say that water tastes bad, but water does not taste good. Nothing. Water has no taste. Yet, when thirst strikes, water satisfies. Nothing satisfies. The satisfaction you need with the flavor that would let you down every time if only it could let you down every time, because you can’t blame something on nothing. Can you? No pleasure but also no displeasure. Hydration, but only for hydration’s sake. Water Time: a productive way to spend time doing nothing.

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